A Tale Of Cinderella
by Tearrer
Summary: Hermione spent her summer writing to a mysterious boy from school and he's simply perfect. They keep their identities secret, but when the day of unmasking arrives, will Hermione be ready for the surprise that awaits her? Complete.
1. Home Sweet Home

**A/N:** It has been quite a while, my readers ;). After a good two years of Hiatus I'm trying desperately to get back into writing mode and motivate myself to finish the revising and continue with a WIP story that I'm excited to post. Hopefully previous readers will be able to notice the difference between this and older version of this story, as I tried to make it more realistic, less like the movie, and not so emotionless :P. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also base loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Update:** January 11, 2009

**Chapter One (Home Sweet Home)**

It was August 31st and there was just one more day before she was off for her sixth year at Hogwarts. Unlike many other students that attended her school, Hermione Granger couldn't wait for the holidays to end and school to begin. After three months of a horrible summer with her step-family she was exhausted and more than happy to get away from everything.

Three years ago, tragedy has struck her family, and now she was forced to live with her two stepsisters, Riley and Cassandra, who were arrogant, supercilious, and cruel. But they were nothing compared to her step-mother, Madam Hazen, who could pass as Voldemort's right-hand woman. Hermione was sure that if it hadn't been for her 'mystery man' she couldn't have lasted the summer.

It was as if fate had brought them together. While walking down the corridor to exit the train to head home for summer, Hermione stumbled across a lone package on the floor, being trampled by the careless students excited to get home for the summer. Without a second thought she picked up the package, intending on sending it to its owner once she arrived home. The following day, she sent an owl to deliver the package to the owner with an explanation of why she had the parcel in the first place. A week later, she received a kind reply filled with words of thanks, and the next thing she knew the two of them had become, well, _friends_.

Although she knew little about his exact identity, she knew a lot about his personality. He was kind, elegant, and absolutely charming. He knew how to arrange his writing in order to say just the right thing to make her blush; and how to describe the exact feelings he had about a particular subject. He wrote the honest words no one could say aloud – and that appealed to her.

Although she had never met him face-to-face (well, knowingly at least) she felt as if she had known him for years. His handwriting was distinguishable, and as the letters continued to come Hermione was able to decipher his mood from the curves of the quill he had written with. She could tell when he skived off a certain point, or avoided a specific topic, and she could tell when he was passionate about something, as well. For her, those were the most intriguing letters to read. To hear another person relay to her the emotional connection and strong opinions they had about one thing in particular was amazing to her; intoxicating and addicting.

There were radomocities about him that she knew as well: his favorite subject, his pet peeves, his most desired trait in a person, _his_ most desirable trait. The list was endless. Their knowledge about one another didn't seem to hit a wall until the more general topics surfaced. Things such as his house, his name, his year in school: they were all unmentionables. Why ruin something that was going so well with potentially insignificant facts? She didn't ask him, and he didn't ask her.

Her thoughts were put on pause momentarily when Riley came barging into her tiny bedroom with an accusing glare across her face.

"What have you done with my summer dress?!" she demanded in her typical winey fashion.

"I haven't seen it," Hermione answered truthfully, secretly wishing she _had_ taking her sister's favorite dress and ripped it into shreds. Maybe _that_ would shut her up…

"Well then where is it?" Riley yelled in frustration, starting to throw Hermione's own clothes around the room, looking for her dress. If anyone had still been asleep, they were awake now.

"Did you ask Cassandra yet?"

"Why bother? You do it," she sneered and stomped out of the room. Hermione sighed and stood up from her desk; the day had officially begun.

-----

As it turns out the dress was, in fact, in Cassandra's room. Not even bothering to point this out to Riley, Hermione got to work for the day. She had been assigned to do various chores by Madam Hazen which included cleaning the floors, doing the laundry, straightening up the house, cooking breakfast and lunch, and packing Cassandra's trunk for Hogwarts.

She was in the middle of packing Cassandra's trunk when Riley came into the room and began complaining to her about not properly cleaning her shirt, which she held tightly in her hand, waving it around madly. Hermione had been waiting for the outburst to start. Every year Riley became temperamental just before the school year started. Throwing fits about nonsensical things and moping around the house to dampen everyone else's spirits were among the many ways in which she complained.

Although it was impossibly irritating, a small bit of Hermione's conscience couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Being a squib in a family of purebloods was not something one could take lightly. The fact that her own father had disowned their family due to her inability to perform magic did not help lessen the burden already set on her shoulders. The shame was one thing, but the guilt of driving away her own father was a feeling she would never be able to rid herself of. Of course, Hermione's muggleborn background did not make living with Riley any easier, as she always brought up the unfair way things had turned out: the purebloods had bred a non-magical daughter, while the muggles had been lucky enough to acquire an intelligent witch.

As if there weren't enough abnormalities as it was, Hermione's place in the family only added to the dysfunction. It had started after her third year at Hogwarts when she had arrived home from school that summer. It was fine, perfectly normal for that first week. That was, until The Accident. It had been hard to deal with, losing her mother and part of her father's emotional self in nothing more than a few weeks. The rest of that summer had been solemn. Hermione's father stayed out of the house as much as possible, and Hermione was mostly left alone to cope with her mother's death alone.

When she left for her fourth year at Hogwarts after summer, she had never imagined what she would be coming home to just nine months later. It had been bizarre; expecting to come home to the empty house, her father away on business to stay out of the house as much as humanly possibly. However, she was met with a new man – someone she didn't know. He was happy, or at least _seemed_ happy, and was clinging to the opulent woman beside him when he told his daughter the news. He was married. _Married!_ Of course, the idea to write her over the school year had somehow escaped him and Hermione had been left in the darkness about his relationship and marriage with this new woman.

As it turns out, this new woman was a witch – literally and metaphorically. Not only that, but she had a daughter that was Hermione's own age! Same age means same year in school. And so her new life began.

Madam Hazen, who her she called mother only in front of her father to please him, was nothing short of a monster. A two-faced, lying, unearthly, monster.

It was late August when the only family she had left abandoned her. His death was harder on her than her mother's – this time there really was no one to go home to. Hermione was left on her own with only a stepmom to prove she even had any type of family once-upon-a-time. Of course, with her father gone, Madam Hazen found no point in trying to hide her dislike for her late husband's own child, and so Hermione was placed into the same situation she was in right now: hell.

_Tell Harry or Ron of the horrible woman she was stuck with!_, one might suggest. How could she do something like that to them? They – the three of them – had so much more to deal with. The dark side was growing, and the problems were only getting larger as time went on. Voldemort wasn't stopping, so their fight against him could not be paused either, even if it meant Hermione's happiness at home. She could sacrifice it.

"Are you listening to me, mudblood!" Riley shrieked from her left.

"Yes! I'll wash your shirt again when I'm finished with this packing." Hermione glared at the girl and folded another pair of jeans.

"And it had better be done right this time!" she squealed as she stomped out of the room, huffing the entire way.

Hermione sighed at the receding girl. As much as she pitied her, the brat was still annoying as hell.

---

After she had completed all of the tasks and had eaten a small dinner, Hermione headed up to her room to finish packing her own Hogwart's trunk. When she opened the door her mood increased drastically when she noticed the familiar dark owl on her desk, waiting patiently with a letter held securely in its beak. She rushed over and removed the letter from the bird, setting it down on the table.

"Wait just a second," she told the bird with a sweet smile and it gave a small hoot of understanding. She walked over to her bedside table drawer, where she had a bag of owl treats handy. She removed a few and brought them over to the owl, whose name was Kale, and set them on the desk in front of him. He hooted in thanks and dug into the treats set for him. Turning away from the bird and back to the letter, Hermione hurriedly ripped open the envelope and read the message written in the familiar elegant penmanship.

_It's good to hear you are managing in the last few days of summer. I'm sure it has been most difficult for you as the days trickled on, edging closer to the return to Hogwarts. Merlin knows I'm fairing just as anxiously as you are!_

_Do you find it as strange as I do, knowing that we will be so near one another but not actually _know_ it? I could hold a conversation with you and not even know it's you. It's both nerve-racking and exhilarating at the same time. Hopefully I'm not sounding like too much of a nutter at the moment; you know how I tend to analyze._

_Of course, we will be keeping up with our letters once we return to Hogwarts, will we not? I wasn't aware of your thoughts on the idea of a "pen pal" – I still don't understand the origin of that word – when we will be in such close proximity. Do let me know, I'll be looking forward to the answer._

_I'll be seeing you soon, whether I know it or not._

Hermione finished the letter and smiled at his words. She had mentioned casually how she and her family didn't get along very well, although hadn't gone into too much detail. He had explained to her in return the tension that ensued in his own home as well. The understanding that existed between them after that had stuck. She grabbed a quill off of the desk and began to write a reply.

_Ah, just a day left. That bright light of Hogwarts at the end of my dark summer's tunnel seemed to be the only thing keeping me from using magic lately. Thankfully tomorrow I'll be able to use my wand. Its strange not using it – as if I'm missing part of my arm. I'm sure you understand the feeling._

_No, you don't sound crazy in the least. I've been thinking the same thing. There _is_ a bit of thrill knowing the distance gap is coming to an end. And I've gotten used to the analyzing. Next thing you know it will be _me_ dissecting every bit of information I absorb!_

_I was hoping to keep up writing with you as well. Unless we suddenly find each other and talk rather than write, I'd look forward to receiving your mail just as I do now. Hopefully that was the answer you were looking for._

_See you tomorrow, and hopefully you'll have a nice train ride._

_PS: We've been over this before! Take a class of muggle studies. I've tried to explain what a pen pal was and failed miserably (because you're stubborn!) so you can figure it out on your own._

Hermione re-read the note before sending off with Kale. She watched as the owl soared away from her house into the black of night, feeling as if her summer of troubles was flying away with it, giving her that relief she needed.

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	2. Away From The Summer

**A/N:** This is the second time I've submitted this revised second chapter. Hopefully it will go through this time around. I'm getting rather frustrated :/. Well... enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also base loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Update:** January 11, 2009

**Chapter Two (Away from the Summer)**

It was already 8:50 a.m. when Hermione woke up. Rushing to get herself ready within the ten minutes she had, she scrambled about her room looking for any last-minute additions to her stuffed trunk. It was 8:59 a.m. when she looked at her clock next, finished. She hulled her trunk down the stairs with difficulty and headed for the front door where she knew the rest of her family would be waiting for her. She managed to heave her heavy trunk to the back of the car and push it into the area provided with minor difficulties.

"What took you?" Madam Hazen glared at her as she pulled out of the driveway. Although they were magical, Madam Hazen had figured it would be a waste to get rid of Hermione's father's own car in a muggle neighborhood after he had passed away.

"I woke up late."

"Don't get smart with me, girl!" Madam Hazen snapped. Hermione resisted the urge recoil and shifted her eyes towards the window for the rest of the ride.

When Madam Hazen stopped the car in front of King's Cross Station Hermione's spirits were at a peak, knowing just how close she was to escaping everyone's presence. Hermione hopped out of the car quickly, and moved towards the trunk to recover her possessions. She waited for Cassandra to come over to get hers, which was on top of Hermione's, only to realize that she had already started towards the platform, leaving Hermione to take both trunks.

Madam Hazen glared at her from the driver's seat of the car while she struggled to remove both of the trunks from their secured spaces. When she had finally managed to pull them both out and balance them on the pavement, Madam Hazen drove away without another word. With great difficulty, Hermione heaved both trunks to the barrier. As much as she wanted to leave Cassandra's trunk lying on the curb on its own she couldn't allow herself to act as her step-sister would have. Call it Gryffindor Honor if you must. When she finally reached the stone wall leading to the Hogwarts Express, she stared at the wall thinking, _now what?_ How was she supposed to get through the wall without causing a scene? She could hardly walk with the two trunks unnoticed let alone squeeze through a narrow barrier with both trunks trailing behind her awkwardly.

"Having trouble?" A male's voice came from behind her.

"Oh, thank goodness. Could you please-," Hermione looked around and stopped mid-sentence.

"Oh, nevermind, I'll figure it out on my own," she said coolly as soon as her eyes landed on the blonde ferret clad in black. He obviously must not have realized it was her.

"Granger," he said in his usual drawl, acting as if he hadn't just offered his help. He walked himself through the barrier without a second glance towards her.

"Hi Hermione!" Lucky for her, Neville walked up just a few seconds later. "You sure do have a lot of stuff," he said as he grabbed Cassandra's trunk. "Gran's got mine."

"Hi Neville. Well, we are going to be gone for a good eight months," she lied, not sharing the fact that the second trunk belonged to Cassandra and not her.

"So how was your summer?" he said as he took the trunk and walked through the wall. Hermione followed after him and saw that Neville had already set the extra trunk down.

"It was tolerable. How was yours?"

"Pretty boring, but I am glad we're going back to Hogwarts, Gran can get tough sometimes," he replied brightly. "Well, I'd better go and help Gran now; I'll see you around Hermione."

"See you, and thanks for your help." She waved goodbye and turned away. She looked around and saw a large group of red-heads and made her way towards them, abandoning Cassandra's trunk in the alcove. If a trunk was left lying near the Hogwarts Express, it would get to Hogwarts sooner or later – she hoped.

"Hermione!" Harry and Ron greeted her, as did Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Hello everyone!" Hermione happily greeted everyone, giving both her friends a hug, missing their company.

"So how was your summer? Is you dad doing alright?" Ron asked.

"It was alright, and he's just fine." She lied yet again, tensely this time. It was much more difficult to lie to her best friends, especially over something so important. Still, she felt she had to do it for the good of the wizarding world. The added bonus that Cassandra was much too ashamed to admit a muggleborn was her stepsister also made managing the secret easier.

"My dad just dropped me off. He has a convention for work to get to…"

"It has been ages since we've seem him, hasn't it Arthur? We should have dinner sometime, Hermione," Molly suggested with a kind smile. Hermione only nodded tightly.

"Alright everyone, you had better get onto the train before it leaves without you." Mr. Weasley ushered everyone away towards the train and one by one they got on, each giving a hug to the departing Weasleys.

Hermione rolled her trunk behind her as she followed Harry down the train corridor while he tried to find an open compartment. Once successful, they shuffled into the compartment and tucked their trunks under the seats. They spent their first hour discussing their summers, Hermione lying every time she was asked something in regards to her father. At least they knew about her mother's death, she couldn't imagine having to lie about both of her parent's deaths.

After another hour it was time for the prefect meeting which meant Hermione, Ron, and now Ginny were all leaving the compartment for a while.

"Are you sure it's alright, Harry?" Hermione frowned, not wanting him to be left alone.

"I'll be fine Hermione," he reassured her, yet again.

"Okay, we'll be back as soon as we can," she told him firmly, giving him her word.

He shook his head, smiling. "See you soon."

The three of them arrived at the compartment and took their seats, waiting for Katie Bell, the new Head Girl, to begin her speech.

"Welcome to a new year of Hogwarts. I'm Katie for those of you who don't know me, and this is Gregory." She pointed to a stiff-backed boy with a mop of blonde hair. "We would first like to remind you of your duties as prefects. That is, managing the student's behavior and making sure they have orderly conduct in school and on the train.

"Also, Professor Dumbledore filled me in on a special treat for the students this fall. Hogwarts will be holding its first Masquerade Ball at the end of the month. The dance will be organized, prepared, and overseen by the prefects and us Heads. He is giving us students a chance to manage the dance ourselves, ensuring that it will be a fun night. Your cooperation with this is mandatory, whether you are supportive of the ball or not. Each and every one of you is also required to be present at all meetings regarding the dance. We will fill you in on the details at our next meeting which will be later this week. For now, enjoy the ride back to Hogwarts." Katie smiled nervously at the students, hoping she had made a good first speech as Head Girl.

"Reminders of the meeting will be sent to each of you. We need some good ideas for this, so try and come up with some things to share at the meeting," Gregory added suddenly, and looked at Katie briefly.

The students took this as their cue to leave, and they headed back to their respective compartments.

"I think the ball sounds like a great idea," Ginny announced happily.

"I completely agree; it seems like a great way to support house unity and get to know one another better, especially if it is a masquerade," Hermione said happily.

"Sounds like a load of rubbish to me. I mean, we're going to be able to recognize people under their costumes, of course!" Ron pointed out.

"Not if you get a good enough costume. Or maybe if you cast a glamour charm to cover up your identity…" Hermione suggested smartly.

"Rubbish. We've only gone to school with these people for, what, six years now?" Hermione rolled her eyes; sometimes he was so difficult. They entered the compartment to find Harry sitting with Neville talking.

"That was fast," he commented.

"Yes, well they only had to debrief us and announce the news of the ball that's going to be held soon."

"Ball, what ball?"

"We're hosting a Masquerade Ball at the end of the month," Ginny said happily, taking a seat next to Harry.

"Well, that's pretty stupid. We're going to know who the people are," Harry said as if it were obvious.

"Ha! Told you," Ron said sounding very sure of himself. Hermione shook her head, _Boys_.

**---A/N---**

**1.** Gregory Stebbins - I gave him a first name, lol. "Mr. Stebbins" was mentioned in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. He was a Hufflepuff student caught by Snape in the bushes outside the Yule Ball with "Ms. Fawcett," also a Hufflepuff. Fawcett is in Harry's year; however Stebbins's year in school was not specified.

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	3. The Ball, Pt 1: Preparations

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also base loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Update:** January 11, 2009

**Chapter Three (Preparations)**

The first few weeks of classes flew by quickly as the new students settled in and the old re-adjusted. It was just one week before the ball and the prefects had been asked to go to the prefect meeting room in order to receive their schedules for monitoring the dance. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione all headed to the meeting room and once everyone was seated Gregory began to explain the plans.

"As you should all know, the prefects will be in charge of monitoring the rest of the students throughout the ball. Four prefects will assigned to each hour, and are to make their rounds around the Great Hall to make sure nothing gets out of hand. Your time before and after the hour you were assigned is yours to enjoy. If you do not plan to attend the ball, it is still required that you make your rounds on your assigned hour. Schedules are laid out on the table to your right sorted by year, then last name." With that said Gregory took his seat again and turned to chat with Katie, who was sitting to his left, while the students went to retrieve their schedules.

"Mine isn't too bad: Ernie, Parvati, and Pansy from 7:00-8:00," Ron said looking down at the paper.

Hermione looked down at hers, frowning in the slightest. "I've got Collin, Landon, and Malfoy from 9:00-10:00."

"Hopefully you won't bump into one another. I mean, it isn't as if you have to do the rounds _together_," Ron said optimistically and Hermione silently agreed – avoiding would be the best solution.

---  
Hermione was just settling into bed that night when a traditional school owl swooped in through the window, dropping a note on her lap. She opened it, smiling, and ignored Lavender's question from the other bed.

_I'm sure you've heard by now, but there is an upcoming Masquerade Ball. I thought, considering the theme and our rather _different_ relationship, that playing off the theme and finally meeting one another would be a nice pun to the dance itself._

_Hopefully you were planning on going to the ball already, but if not, then you can consider this an official invitation from an acquaintance:_

_Would you care to meet me near the entrance of the Great Hall at 10:00 on the night of the Ball?_

Hermione's heart flipped. It wasn't every day a girl was asked to a ball! She hurried to her trunk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, readying herself to reply. When the quill was about to touch the page, however, she paused.

Was this really such a good idea? First of all, she didn't even know who he was. Secondly, the meeting would officially mark the end of their writing relationship – she was sure that words would no longer come so easy to her when there was a face at the receiving end. And lastly, sheer nervousness; the fact that he may not be all he's cracked up to be. Or maybe she would make a complete fool of herself!

This letter she was preparing to send could change everything. Was she ready to risk it?

Deciding not to linger on the debate any longer, Hermione threw her thoughts out of her mind and quickly wrote the reply and sent it off with the owl before she could even consider changing her mind.

---  
On the opposite side of the castle, in the Slytherin boy's dormitory, an owl flew in through a window and dropped a note onto the lap of Draco Malfoy, who had been waiting for a reply. As soon as it landed, he snatched up the letter and tore it open.

_I couldn't agree more. _–The boy's heart leaped in his chest– _I was planning on simply showing up with some friends, but I'm sure that meeting you would be much more exciting._

_I will see you there. 10:00 don't be late._

---  
The day had finally come and there were just a few hours before the ball would begin. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were impatiently waiting for Potions to come to an end. Hermione tried hard to focus on the class, but her mind would constantly stray to one thought. She was nervous, very nervous. What if it turned out he didn't like her? What if he had been pretending all along? What would they talk about? Was this _really_ such a good idea?

Luckily, Harry and Ron hadn't noticed her haywire nerves and made no comment on her lack of concentration throughout the day. It wasn't as if she had told them about her frequent letters to some mysterious boy from school. She knew it had been risky in the first place – what if it had been a trap from the dark side? Worrying them was not something she wanted to do, nor did she plan on it.

Hermione's attention (or lack there of) faltered when Potions class finally ended and the trio headed down to the Great Hall for lunch.

"I suppose we'll be walking to the Ball together?" Harry asked when they had reached the Gryffindor table and taken a seat next to Ginny.

"I had assumed that was the plan," Hermione said simply.

"Right after lunch the prefects are going to be decorating in here. Once we've finished we'll leave and start getting ready. Since there won't be a proper dinner tonight we've decided to set up a table with appetizers and refreshments that automatically refill themselves and have been charmed for extra precaution against any unwanted substances that may be place into the drinks." Hermione explained while trying to eat. Harry grinned at the last part, remembering the trouble from previous years.

"Well, the food idea is a good one, especially for people like Ron." Harry looked over at Ron who was about to place another bite of food in his already stuffed mouth.

After lunch Harry left the Great Hall with Dean and Seamus while Hermione, Ron, and Ginny stayed to decorate. Soon there were only prefects and the Heads left in the hall. Gregory waved his wand and the four house tables were pushed against the wall, clearing the hall.

"You all should have seen the layout we designed by now. If you need an extra look at it let either Gregory or I know, since we both have copies," Katie said brightly, taking out her wand.

The next three hours were spent casting spells in all directions. Each prefect had been assigned a section of the hall to work on and was doing so diligently. Despite house rivalry, they managed to work together well. After two hours of vigorous spellworking the decorating was complete, and the group stood back to examine the hall.

Hermione's eyes ran across the room, taking in the changes. The Great Hall was almost unrecognizable. In place of the four house tables, about three dozen round tables had been set up. The tablecloths and chairs were scarlet with silver embroidery. Starting at the entrance there was a long, navy blue carpet leading to the dance floor that was set in the center of the room. Covering the walls were bouquets of golden and sliver roses, and the drapes on the windows were navy blue to match the entrance carpet. Someone had charmed the ceiling, causing glitter to lightly fall around them, disappearing before it touched the ground or anyone's clothes. Against the far left wall a stage was set for the musicians, and about a foot of synthetic fog hovered over it. Once the ball was to start, stars were to illuminate the ceiling.

"Wow," Katie spoke lightly, amazement in her voice, "it turned out great." She held her glance for a moment longer before tearing her eyes away to look back towards the crow of prefects.

"Well, the Great Hall is going to be closed for the next few hours – no one will be able to step in unless they have the key, that is, Gregory or me. Great job everyone, and don't forget about your patrol hour tonight at the ball."

---  
After spending roughly two hours preparing for the ball, Hermione was sure there was nothing more she could possibly do. She had styled her usually bushy hair into cascading light ringlets that reached her mid-back; it was half-up, and a few wavy locks framed her face. Her make-up consisted of a light brown eye shadow, black eyeliner and mascara, a small amount of blush, and lip gloss to complete the design. To finish it off and add to the theme, she charmed her skin to be a shade darker than it was in reality.

The dress she had purchased the previous week at Hogsmeade was sliver and just touched the floor once she slipped her heels on. Two thin shoulder straps held up the dress and dipped into a v-neck. The dress was elegant, yet simple. Nothing too flashy, but appealing enough to gain a few looks. To compliment the dress she had purchased a matching eye mask in order to help hide her identity from the rest of rest of the students (one in particular…). Finally, she casted the glamour charm – one she had specifically modified to be to her benefit. Those who she wished to recognize her would; the others would not. It would keep away questions from Harry, Ron, and Ginny who would be wondering why they couldn't identify their best friend, but keep her a mystery to the rest of the students.

After checking her appearance one last time, she left the dormitory and headed down to the common room for Harry, Ron, and Ginny who were already waiting for her to arrive. She was descending the stairs slowly, making sure she wouldn't trip over her heels. An extra three inches could really throw off your balance!

"Your dress looks lovely, Hermione," Ginny exclaimed happily as soon as she spotted her. She was supporting a sharp green dress, which complimented her eyes well, and a mask to match. Her hair was pinned up away from her face, with a few tresses falling around her shoulders.

"You look really nice, 'Mione," Harry said sweetly. He and Ron were both wearing plain black dressrobes. An improvement for Ron, most definitely.

"Yeah, you do, Hermione," Ron included, smiling in her direction.

"Thanks you guys," she said smiling. "So shall we get going then? Thank you for waiting for me."

"It wasn't as if we were going to leave you here," Harry shook his head at the idea.

"You never know with you two…" Hermione countered, but with a smile nevertheless.

When they reached the huge oak doors leading into the hall Hermione was genuinely surprised to see that she couldn't, overall, indentify _any_ of the people around her. If someone were to ask her for a dance she would be oblivious as to know who she was with or which house he belonged to.

_At least I know what Ron and Harry look like_, Hermione thought to herself.

As she walked over to a table, she noticed a few heads turn in her direction. Now _that_ was a new one. Although she was by no means the most unattractive girl in her year, and despite the baggy robes and bag full of books she constantly carried around, she hardly ever received looks like the ones she was getting now. She tried to ignore and not return them, hoping that she wasn't already turning any shade of red.

"You guys did a great job with the decorations," Harry said approvingly, looking around the hall.

"Well, it only took three hours," Ron said sarcastically.

"You are getting quite a few looks, Hermione," Ginny stated abruptly with a smirk, knowing full well that it only made her uncomfortable.

She took a quick glance and noticed a few more boys were looking over at her in confusion, obviously trying to figure out who she was. Quite a few were looking a Ginny as well, which she was sure was bothering Harry, although he'd never admit it. You'd think they'd realize who they were, considering the company. Then again, maybe they couldn't identify Harry or Ron as well as she could.

"Thanks for telling me, Ginny. It wasn't as if I couldn't feel their eyes to begin with," Hermione said sarcastically, then stuck her tongue out at her in a jesting manner.

"Oh, don't worry about it. It is rather flattering, though." Harry and Ron scowled at the idea.

"Anyone want a butterbeer?" Ron asked as he stood up from the table abruptly to changing the subject. Those two could be so protective sometimes. They each nodded and Ron walked away towards the refreshment tables.

"Excuse me, but I was wondering if you would like to dance?" an eager, male voice from behind Hermione sounded. She looked over to him, surprised. He was tall, thin, and had bright green eyes.

"I suppose I could spare you a song," Hermione said nicely, accepting his hand with a smile, hoping to dance the time away until 10:00 PM.

---**A/N**---

**1.** Landon: I made him up. He'll be in Ginny's year.  
**2.** I have URLs to the images of Hermione's dress and mask on my profile page if you are interested in seeing them..

**Review Please**


	4. The Ball, Pt 2: The Unmasking

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also base loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story. Also, in this chapter, there is a small scene that is based off of the movie The Notebook.

**Update:** January 11, 2009

**Chapter Four (Unmasking)**

It was halfway through Hermione's monitoring session and she could say one thing for sure: this seemed like a complete waste of her time. Not once in the entire half an hour she'd been making rounds had anything happened except a few dance partner requests, which she politely declined. She had circled the entire hall more than three times and this 'monitoring' was becoming very tedious. She stared at the clock, wishing it would jump ahead twenty minutes. She was _so close_ to meeting him.

Fifteen minutes were left when a loud argument erupted a few feet away from her.

"Well maybe if you hadn't been flirting with her, she wouldn't have smacked you!" said a short boy to a much taller one.

"You stay out of this!" the taller boy yelled, turning back to the girl, ready to yell at her. Before he could even open his mouth Hermione had walked over.

"If you will please come with me and take this argument somewhere a bit less crowded…" She said calmly looking at the bickering teens rather than the staring bystanders.

"And who the bloody hell are you?" the tall boy asked rudely.

"I happen to be a prefect. Now if you would please follow me to the hall," Hermione answered sternly, sounding a bit like McGonagall. The tall boy stormed out, followed by the girl, the other boy, and finally Hermione. Once in the deserted entrance Hermione nearly forced them to settle the disagreement through discussion, which only ended with the shorter boy and the girl storming away from one another in opposite directions. The taller boy, however, walked back into the Great Hall with a smug look plastered on his face.

Once Hermione had gotten back into the Great Hall she was relieved and nervous to find that it was already 9:55 p.m. There was just five minutes before they were to meet up and Hermione was struggling to hide her anxiety. She headed over to the table where Ginny was sitting and settled herself into the chair beside her.

"Would you do me a favor and tell the boys that I'm going back up to the common room after rounds in five minutes?" Hermione lied to Ginny, feeling awful all the while.

"Oh, don't you want to stay any longer? The younger students finally left," Ginny looked disappointed at the news.

"No, I'm quite tired, actually… I, um, was hoping to get some sleep. I know my roommates won't be in until later, and I figured I could get some silent time without them squealing about their dates." The first pathetic story she could think of turned out to be awful. Ginny seemed to think that as well, because she gave Hermione a very strange look.

"Hm, if you insist, Hermione. I'll let them know. But don't blame me if they come to check up on you…" Ginny said slyly, giving Hermione a sideways glance. Nope, she hadn't bought a word of it. But, being Ginny, she didn't question Hermione's whereabouts.

"Thank you so much, Ginny. I owe you one," she said brightly, knowing full-well Ginny wouldn't tell the boys anything and that she wouldn't pressure Hermione into telling her anything.

"I don't know why you would…" She said with a knowing smile. Hermione only smiled gratefully once again and walked off to the entrance to the hall where she would finally meet Mr. Mysterious.

---

Her knees were weak as she waiting nervously by the doors. It was 10:01 – she had glanced at the clock again just second before – and she knew he had to be around her somewhere. So close… but she didn't know if he'd see her; know it was she he was looking for. There were a lot of girls around here… perhaps she should have mentioned what color her dress was. Just bloody brilliant!

A moment later a hand was on her shoulder. She froze, afraid to turn. She just stood there for a moment, realizing this was the make-or-break point. Without further hesitation, she turned around.

He was wearing a black set of dress robes and a mask that covered the upper half of his face. Somewhat like hers, but black and suited for a man. She studied him, her attention going first to his eyes. They were gray, almost light blue, and extremely familiar. She furrowed her brow in thought, eyes studying his features. She knew him – she _knew_ she knew him… but she didn't _know _who he was.

"Hi," he said softly, "I was looking for someone, and it looked like you were a bit lost as well…" His eyes scanned her face, analyzing her features just as she was doing to him.

"It's me," Hermione smiled shyly, but could only think of one thing to say next: "I know you." He was _so_ familiar… it was eerie. Her eyes were trying to tell her something, but her brain couldn't function the right way! She had to look away.

"It's the glamour. But… I think I know you, too." His eyes were on her face, and she felt herself blush.

"How about a dance?" he suggested nicely, offering his hand. His voice was suave – smooth. It was elegant and strong. He had confidence and followed through with basic chivalry.

"Okay." She accepted his hand, somewhat dazed by his very presence. It was like the Twilight Zone; she had never imagined she'd actually meet him.

As they danced slowly, and somewhat awkwardly, Hermione recognized the traditional composure he held and the grace with which he walked. She held onto his hand loosely, and did her best not to dance too close to him. She _had_ only just met him.

After four songs had played, he leaned into her ear and spoke. "Would you be interested in taking a walk with me on the grounds?"

She bit her bottom lip nervously, contemplating. It was rather dark out, and she had just met him. But then again, she knew him. She was sure she did. In the end, she followed her instincts and agreed.

They made their way outside together, not quite touching one another but close enough for any bystander to realize they were together. When he shut the entrance door behind them Hermione felt the cool night air against her hot skin, contrasting pleasantly. He walked up beside her and offered a hand. This time, Hermione only looked down and smoothed out her dress, rejecting the gesture politely as possible.

"I've been looking forward to finally meeting you," he admitted shamelessly. He looked over at her curiously, wondering if she would reply.

"I have been too," she finally met his eyes, but looked away seconds later. "I have you to thank for making my summer much more tolerable than usual," she told him sincerely, knowing he understood. There was another moment of silence before he, once again, broke it.

"Let's play a game." He spoke suddenly, turning to her with a jump in his step and a small smile on his face.

"A game?" She looked at him incredulously

"How about twenty questions?"

"How about ten? Each."

"Fair enough," he agreed and continued, "What year are you in?"

"Sixth year. And you?" she asked the same question, having been curious of this herself.

"I'm also in sixth year," he replied, but looked troubled by the idea.

"Why do you look so bothered by that?"

"I… don't know. You're… I know you, I think. But you aren't familiar. It's vague… you sound sure of knowing that you know _me_. It's not the same for me, though. And now I've realized we're in the same year, so I _do _know you. Why is it different?"

"That would be my doing. I altered the glamour charm a bit," she said, trying her best not to sound too proud of her work. He looked at her suspiciously, though.

"Now _that_ was familiar. I definitely know you…" he studied her face again, but finally shrugged it off. "We're both at two questions then."

Hermione silently cursed herself; she wanted to figure out who he was before he discovered who _she_ was. It would do no good to give clues by acting so much like herself right now. _Think mysterious!_ She ordered silently.

"What house are you in?" she figured it was her turn.

"You'll find out soon enough, I promise," he replied, avoiding the question. "How long have you lived with your step-family?"

"Nearly three years now," she answered the unexpected question. Jumping right into the family nonsense was not what she wanted to do. "When is your birthday?"

"June 5th. When is yours?"

"September 19th." She said matter-of-factly, "but you just stole my questions, so that doesn't count."

"Yes it does. Plus, you stole mine earlier!" he countered rightfully and she rolled her eyes in defeat.

"Fine then, what is your favorite color?" she asked the first question that came to mind, not knowing what else to ask.

He looked at her, highly amused. "Why?"

"No reason, just answer!" she said smiling, almost laughing.

"Navy blue," he answered, smiling.

Hermione looked at him strangely; did that mean he was in Ravenclaw? She remembered to keep the fact filed in the back of her mind, just in case. "So, what did you do your last week of summer? We didn't talk then," she asked.

"Is that your question, or just an off-hand small talk?" he… smirked. Hermione looked at him curiously. That was familiar. _Very_ familiar. Hermione made a mental note of _that_ as well.

"Something wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"No, nothing's wrong. I'm fine," she told him happily. "And consider it a question if you must."

"I took a short trip to Diagon Alley. I had to pick up some last minute items for school. Mainly I practice my flying techniques in the woods near home. I had to enjoy the freedom to practice before I got back here where there are restrictions on when and where we can fly. You know how much I like flying."

"Yes, it's your 'favorite pass time.'" She smiled, how could she forget? He had only reminded her every other letter.

"Mark my words: I _will_ get you on a broom sometime," he said surely.

"You're head is too high in those clouds if you think that will ever happen, flying-boy-wonder!" she said playfully.

"Oh, clever," he grinned at her.

They continued their walk in comfortable silence. It was nice, having the company. It was similar to being with Harry and Ron, but much different… more precious. Knowing it will end soon made the moments almost breakable.

"It looks beautiful out here tonight." Her head tilted towards the sky.

"I guess." He merely shrugged.

"Look at the stars! They're stunning. Up there alone… _free_." She gazed up into to blackness littered with stars.

"I suppose they look beautiful right now." He walked up next to her and looked up as well.

"What do you mean 'right now'?" she gave him a sideways glance. "They've always looked beautiful. They always _will_."

"Only until it burns out," he countered.

"It has been said that when a star burns out and falls, it means there was an ending to something that needed closure."

"Vague. Who said _that_? And what type of something?"

"People," she smiled again. "And anything that _needs_ closure. An argument, a feud, _people_. Just, anything."

"Sounds like rubbish to me," he turned his eyes on her again.

"Why? Isn't that what we all want? Closure to things? No one likes a book without an ending." She turned her eyes to meet his gray ones. They were cold, almost troubled, however he said no more on the subject.

There was silence once again, although both were sneaking glances at each other at times.

"We had better head in soon. The ball ends at midnight, it is nearly over." He sounded nervous.

"Yes, we should probably get back." She took a step forward towards the castle and he followed beside her. For the third time, he offered his hand. Smiling, she accepted this time. He looked pleased and gave her hand a small squeeze.

They were quiet until they reached the doors, still outside the school. He gripped her hand tightly, causing her to pause in her steps back towards the castle.

"Aren't you curious?" His voice was strained.

"Very. More nervous, though," she replied softly, avoiding his eyes again.

"I want to show you who I am," he said sternly – he wasn't going to change his mind. Hermione looked away, biting her bottom lip. Should she walk away now? Did she want to know? What if… what if it wasn't someone she was expecting?

"Is that alright?" he asked for confirmation. She didn't answer for a few moments.

"I… I suppose we should both… yes," she answered firmly, giving an assuring nod. No backing down now.

"When I take off the mask the glamour goes away," he told her. She nodded and watched as he slowly raised his hands to his mask-covered face.

It was the longest second of both of their lives.

Hermione was staring; partly in surprise, partly in horror.  
Draco Malfoy was staring at her, trying to read her expression correctly. She looked like a muggle in the center of Diagon Alley – confused and scared. That was not a good sign in his eyes. _Just bloody brilliant_.

"Malfoy," she said it so softly he wasn't sure it had been said. Using his last name: not a good sign.

Of _course_ it was Malfoy. He had gray eyes; he had that familiar smirk she would have been able to recognize had she not been under the glamour. It was… awful. Of all the people she could have had the chance to be _something_ with it had to been Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy: who she hated, who hated _her_ – who had teased and taunted her for the last six years.

"This was a bad idea. I knew it… I had a feeling something would go wrong; something _always_ goes wrong. Look, I've got to go, I can't deal with you right now, Malfoy." Hermione was bumbling around, not knowing what to say or how to act. She wasn't used to this shock! If there was something she had learned from being friend's with Harry and Ron all these years it was to not be surprised.

"Wait, just _wait_. I don't even know you, you're… who are you!" He was frustrated, she could tell.

"I'm your little mistake, Malfoy. Just forget about this – all of this. It's better this way, trust me," she said with a straight voice, finally calming herself.

"No, no! I don't want to forget. Just tell me, show me who you are!" His voice was rising, and he sounded almost desperate.

"I can't, I just-," she didn't finish and turned away from him pulling open the entrance door. She felt him place a hand on her shoulder to stop her and jerked away quickly. "I'm sorry, just stay away," she spoke harshly, so different than she had just been talking to him minutes before.

"I don't understand!"

"And you don't want to. _Trust me_," she tried to reassure him, but it wasn't working. She felt her eyes well up with tears suddenly and willed herself not to cry. Crying over Draco Malfoy, what a joke!

She continued to make her way through the castle up to the Gryffindor common room, calming herself on the way. There were only a few students still in the halls, most saying goodnight to their friends or dates (as she had the pleasure of seeing just a few seconds ago). She couldn't let Ron or Harry spot her looking upset if they happened to be in the common room. First of all, they thought she was already upstairs in her room! Secondly, they'd be suspicious and question her until she exploded and told them everything.

It was much too soon when she arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait, and she forced a smile saying, "Fairy Lights."

When she walked in she was glad to see that only a few people were still in the common room. Lavender and Parvati were chatting animatedly, both smiling with sparkling eyes. She also spotted Ginny talking to a friend of hers that was in her own year. Hermione deliberately avoided Ginny's wandering eyes.

She headed upstairs stiffly and when she finally made it to her dormitory she distracted herself by taking off her dress, removing the mask, and washing off the make-up. It was only until she was all settled that she sat up in her bed, covers surrounding her, and considered the revelation that had been made.

What had happened was something she didn't want to remember. She wanted it to be two weeks ago – when she had a private thrill of knowing someone might be interested in her. Two weeks ago, hell, _yesterday_, she was able to think about this boy and imagine Mr. Perfect. Now… now all she could see was Malfoy's smirking face.

She wasn't a whiner – that's just not who she was. But right now all she could think was, _why does everything turn out bad for me?_ First her mom, then her dad, and her family in general; it was all gone! She finally had found a small spark of hope. Hope that something may turn out… not so bad for the first time in years. In the midst of the war and sadness she felt she deserved some happiness. Obviously the fates thought differently.

As her thoughts spun, she felt one tear fall from her watering eyes and wiped it away quickly, as if it wasn't even there to begin with.

---

As Draco made his way back to his own common room he tried to piece together what happened. He knew that trying to figure out who she was would be futile – she had done a good job on the glamour and unless he was able to narrow down his list of possible candidates and singled out the person whose personality fit, he would never figure out who she was. There was always writing a letter to her, but considering her reaction he doubted she would ever reply.

The most frustrating part was not knowing who she was. He could understand why someone _might_ react to him in such a manner. Sure, he wasn't the nicest person in school. However, he had been surprised that even after talking to her for nearly three months she would still assume he was unkind.

One thing was for sure, though: he was not going to give up on her.

**Review Please**


	5. Unbearable

**A/N:** It's short - I know. My apologies.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also based loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Update:** January 11, 2009

**Chapter Five (Unbearable)**

Hermione had spent the rest of her weekend upstairs away from anyone who would want to talk to her. When Monday came she found herself extremely nervous about going to the Great Hall and to classes. Malfoy was in a good amount of her own classes, one of which happened to be today. She got ready slowly, procrastinating going down to breakfast. Her deliberate slowness, however, was interrupted by Ginny who walked into her dormitory.

"Harry, Ron, and I have been waiting downstairs for a good ten minutes. They insisted I come and bring you downstairs, ah, now," Ginny said smiling. As it turns out, her friends had noticed her sudden change in mood on the Saturday after the dance. They had, of course, insisted she tell them exactly what was getting her down but she brushed it off nonchalantly every time. Still, the three of them would be all smiles when she was around, trying to impress upon her own mood.

"Oh, I'll just head down with you now then. I got caught up in straightening the room." She looked down at the bed that was unmade and books lying around the floor.

"Looks like you got far," Ginny said sarcastically. Hermione didn't acknowledge the obviousness of her lie and together they walked down the stairs and into the common room only to be met with Ron's and Harry's impatient faces.

"Finally! We've been wondering if you died up there," Ron greeted her happily, trying to keep the mood light. She smiled at her two best friends.

"Nope, I'm still here," she said and led the way to the Great Hall at a slow pace.

"How are you feeling?" Harry questioned, still sounding casual.

"I'm a bit tired. I was finishing up the conclusion to the Charms essay due tomorrow last night. I got caught up and didn't realize how late it was when I was ready to get to bed."

"Oh, right, I forgot about that. I guess we'll be working on _that_ essay tonight Ron."

"Do you ever do your homework early?" Hermione asked, shaking her head. She already knew the answer, but they answered anyways.

"Nope, and I'll bet you're the only one who does." Ron sent her a grin. She smiled and shook her head in playful disagreement.

When they walked into the hall together it took all Hermione had to not look over to the Slytherin table. She took a seat with her back to the Slytherin table and dug into her food. She included herself into the conversations buzzing around her, trying to ignore any instinct to look at the Slytherin table. When breakfast had finally ended she was thoroughly relieved and left as quickly as she could to the Herbology greenhouses, a class which was Slytherin-free.

The day continued speedily with her nerves going haywire. When it came time for Transfiguration, a class that was shared with a certain Slytherin, she was just about ready to skip a class for the first time in her Hogwarts career.

"Were you looking for something?" Ron asked, giving her an odd look when he and Harry walked up to her in the hallway.

"Just you guys," she answered with a smile. Ron gave her a strange look but shrugged. She had been looking around the halls nervously, watching out for anyone she wasn't too keen on running into. The three of them found their seats near the center of the room and waited for Professor McGonagall to arrive. Hermione watched as Malfoy took his seat at the table to her left. If Ron wasn't sitting on the seat to her left the only thing that would be separating the two of them would be the gap between their tables.

He didn't look any different than usual. Just as casual, and just as arrogant. Wait… were those bags under his eyes?

"…now, if each of you will please grab a rabbit you may begin." Hermione caught the last bit of what Professor McGonagall had said and followed the rest of the students to the front of the class to retrieve an animal. She walked towards the table, focusing on the batch of rabbits and no where else. She took a quick glance at the board, hoping to get some hints about what exactly they were doing with these rabbits. Unfortunately, it was blank.

She reached in the bin and quickly grabbed a rabbit and walked away before she would have to be anywhere nearer to Malfoy than her seat was. She sat in her chair, flustered; _what was her problem?_ She was definitely not acting like a Gryffindor. She was acting as if she was _afraid_ of Draco Malfoy.

She laid her head in her hands and let out a small sigh. When she sat up things didn't get much better. She looked down at the animal, _what was she supposed to be doing again?_

"Ron, what am I supposed to do?" she asked, looking distressed. He looked at her, surprised.

"You don't know?" he asked stupidly.

"Would I have asked if I did?" she snapped at him.

"Sorry, I'm just not really used to you asking me what do to."

"No, I'm sorry," she sighed, "that was rude. But, honestly, do you know what we're supposed to do?"

"Turn it into cat." He looked at the rabbit, now unsure of what to do himself.

"And how do we do that," she asked again, not enjoying _not_ know what to do.

"You're supposed to say _Chantrio _while pointing at the rabbit." Harry spoke up before trying it on his own.

She gave him an appreciative nod and pointed her wand at the rabbit, "_Chantrio_." To her surprise, it transformed before her eyes. She hadn't even seen a demonstration, let alone the arm movements. She reached down into her bag and removed her Transfiguration book – it would be good to review the spell and see the illustrations, just in case.

"Well done Miss Granger, ten points to Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall nodded in approval. She smiled and looked at her new cat, which she began to stroke unconsciously. After reading the passage, she looked around the room. It seemed as though she was the only one done. Some had cat ears and others had only grown out their legs longer. All in all, it was a typically strange day of Transfiguration.

A much as she tried to avoid it, she couldn't; she had to take at least one glance at him.

He was sitting next to Crabbe and Goyle, concentrating on his own rabbit which had grown a tail and ears. She heard him mutter "_Chantrio_" and watched as the rabbit transformed into a full cat.

"Well done Mr. Malfoy, five points to Slytherin," McGonagall said, also nodding in approval to him. He smirked in spite of himself and leaned back in his chair lazily, as if he didn't have a care in the world.

_Typical Malfoy, _she rolled her eyes.

"Mind giving me a hand, Hermione?" Ron asked her, making her tear her eyes away.

"Sure, no problem Ron." She smiled and watched as he performed the spell, correcting him where needed.

At least she had her friends to distract her, even if she couldn't do it for herself.

---

Twenty minutes later Transfiguration ended and Draco left the room only to be bombarded by Cassandra, his fellow Slytherin.

"Draco! It feels like ages since I last saw you!" She linked her arm into his, making sure she was as close as possible.

"I just saw you before Transfiguration. Could you let go of my arm, thanks," he said through gritted teeth and pulled away is arm.

"Oh, Draco!" Cassandra giggled playfully.

"Erm, right…" he said, annoyed.

"You know, there is a Hogsmeade visit coming up in a few weeks. It would be just perfect if we went together…" she suggested slyly, watching him through heavily make-up coated eyelids.

"I've already got plans for that weekend," he mumbled dryly, only wanting her to get away from him.

"Well then, why don't I just tag along with you?" she said happily and grabbed his hand.

His fellow Slytherin was someone he was meant to be respectful to. He knew her mother was quite wealthy and his father wouldn't take to knowing he had been rude, although it wouldn't matter much. It wasn't as if his father's opinions on how he behaved changed him in any way.

Still, Draco knew how to be a gentleman regardless of status, so he clenched his jaw but said nothing and walked down the corridor.

---

Hermione watched as her step-sister threw herself onto Malfoy. _Serves him right, the two-faced git_, she thought to herself, smirking.

Still, she couldn't help but wish Cassandra would suddenly fall flat on her face and knock all her teeth out.

**Review Please**


	6. Discoveries

**A/N:** Here's a long chapter for you all! Enjoy, because it is about 900 words longer than the original.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also based loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Update:** January 11, 2009

**Chapter Six (Discoveries)**

Lucky for Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were always talking to her and around her, making it almost impossible to even think about Malfoy. Yet, whenever she was alone in the library reading or in the common room doing homework all she thought about was him. And it was always the same thoughts: What would he have done if he had found out it was me?She just couldn't understand it. Why was he so different? Which side of him that she knew was the _real_ Malfoy?

She had gotten to thinking, should she tell someone? She knew that, well, _Ginny_ wouldn't tell anyone… but how could she unload such a burden on her friend? It wasn't something she wanted to do to her.

In the end, she decided against it.

---

It mid-October and Hermione was sitting in the Common Room, trying to complete a History of Magic essay. But, like every other day, her thoughts were once again drawn to Malfoy. She laid her head down on the desk, _would this ever end!_

She couldn't handle this much longer, she knew she'd probably explode if she tried! She stood up and walked to the Gryffindor girl's tower and in front of the fifth year's dormitory room. Standing still for a moment she hesitated to knock. Was this a good idea?

The door opened before she got the chance to back down, however, and she took a step back as Ginny's face appeared. "Hermione! What're you doing standing here in the hall?"

"I was looking for you, actually. I wanted to talk."

"Oh, well come on in." Ginny walked back inside and Hermione followed after, shutting the door. "I was just going down to see if anyone in the common room had a copy of my Charms book, I can't find mine but that can wait. What did you need to talk about?" Ginny said nicely, taking a seat on her bed. She looked curious, yes, but she also had a look that said she would not press for any details. From that, Hermione urged herself to speak, knowing Ginny was trustworthy enough to learn some of the details.

"You know how I went up to my room early at the dance…?" she said casually, hoping Ginny would catch on. She did. Side of her mouth inclined ever so slightly.

"Ah… yeah, I remember."

"Well, I didn't end up at my dorm," Hermione said carefully.

"I didn't think so," Ginny said with a smile.

"I actually met up with someone on the grounds."

"Does this someone have a name?" Ginny inquired casually, not realizing that was a touchy subject until Hermione tensed a bit. She frowned slightly and added, "You don't have to say who."

"I'd prefer to not… but this person, I've been talking with him for a while now. And I've grown to like him as more than a friend," Hermione's cover faltered and she settled on the bed next to Ginny with a defeated sigh.

"And that's a bad thing?" Ginny asked, confused but trying to understand.

"It started at the end of last year! I found a package on the ground, do you remember that? And I said I would send it to whoever the owner was?"

"Oh! Yes, I remember. I take it you became friends over the summer, then? I don't see why this is such a bad thing, 'Mione. You met him at the dance, and now you're distraught over that…? Was he different in real life? Sometimes that can be the case in long-distance relationships," Ginny tried to sympathize.

"No, Ginny, we never told each other who we were when we wrote," she said hopelessly, and Ginny seemed to understand better then.

"He wasn't who you expected, then?"

"Far from it," she admitted. Ginny sat silently for a moment, contemplating the situation.

"Well… was he different than how he seemed on paper? His personality, I mean?" Ginny inquired, dissecting the situation.

"That's part of the problem – he was _exactly_ who he was in our letters. We talked and got along very well," Hermione said easily, almost happy at the recollection.

"What is the problem then? If he's a good person, then you shouldn't be so distraught over anything. What were you expecting? Someone different than-,"

"It was Draco Malfoy!" Hermione couldn't contain herself any longer. Ginny stopped abruptly and looked just as shocked as Hermione had been when he had lifted his mask.

"What?" she said, most likely rhetorically. Hermione didn't answer but let out a frustrated growl and fell back onto Ginny's bed.

"See my problem!"

"Hermione, you're going to have to start from the beginning, then. You've left out half of the details and if you were looking for advice its time to spill those details." Ginny looked at her expectantly.

"You can't tell Harry or Ron," Hermione said seriously.

"I promise I won't," Ginny said and with that Hermione began.

She told her how they had started sending letters back and forth, and how Draco had been such a nice person to confide in. He was open, considerate, and gave input when it came to her problems. They had formed a friendship, no, something _more_ than that, and it was him that had kept her positive over the summer. She told of how they had agreed to finally meet at the dance and the perfect walk they had shared on the grounds, and how much she simply enjoyed his company, even if they weren't talking. Just his presence had made her content.

When she got to the part of the unmasking, she felt the longing creep back up on her. The longing to not remember who he was – ignorance really _was_ bliss.

When she finished, Ginny looked at her with sad eyes. "Hermione… I don't know what to say. Maybe… maybe the real Draco Malfoy was the one in the letters. Although I don't want to believe it myself, you _did _say that you were confidents to one another. Then again, it wasn't _me_ that Malfoy has constantly made fun of for the past six years. This isn't a decision I can make for you, 'Mione. All I can say is to trust in what you believe is the truth. If what his letters said were honest, then use those as a reference to him rather than his actions."

"Thanks, Gin, I can't tell you how good it is to let this off my chest. I've been carrying it around, and it's been taking its toll. I really, _really_ did like him… I thought that maybe, _maybe_ I had found a chance to…" she blushed madly, refusing to meet Ginny's eye, "fall in love."

Ginny looked at her sincerely and enveloped her in a tight hug that Hermione returned. It was nice to have finally removed some of her burden, and Ginny hadn't judged, only showed support in her decision, no matter what they would be.

"Thank you so much, Ginny. I'll keep you updated," she smiled kindly as the pulled away.

"You had better! This is one soap opera I'm not planning on missing the end of!" Ginny joked. Hermione laughed and headed to the door with one more grateful smile in Ginny's direction.

---

"She's been acting strange lately," Ron said to Harry as the exited the Great Hall with the crowd of students.

"Actually, I noticed that she tends to act off when we're around the Slytherins. And, well, don't jump to conclusions about this, but I've noticed she keeps looking at… someone in particular." Harry eyed Ron from the corner of his eye, checking to see if his temper was still in check.

"Who!" he said angrily, with a protective edge to his voice.

"Let's not jump to any conclusions, but she keeps looking at, well, Malfoy." He spoke calmly, but Ron reacted just as he had assumed.

"You don't think he's done anything?" he asked, his face turning a light shade of red – a sign that his temper was rising.

"I don't know, but we should probably talk to Hermione before we do anything reckless." He was trying to stay passive, anything to stop Ron from going on a Malfoy-hut without a solid reason.

"Fine," he agreed curtly, fists tight.

---

Cassandra was angry. _What did the mudblood think she was doing, looking at Draco? _She had just overheard the most _interesting_ conversation between Potter and Weasley as she was walking with the crowd away from the Great Hall. With the first mention of Draco's name she had altered her path and conveniently ended up walking in a perfect position so she could hear every word of their conversation.

This was no good – what was her stepsister doing staring at Draco? The mudblood knew she liked him… was she trying to steal him away from her? That _had_ to be it! As if it wasn't bad enough that she had to live with the girl, now she had to deal with her trying to ruin her social life as well? There was no way she would be getting away with this.

---

Hermione's morning had been dull, with nothing but the teachers' boring words keeping her from her thoughts. It was a slow weekday, and she was just itching to get out and distract herself. She, Harry, and Ron had agreed to meet up after classes and take a walk down to Hagrid's. It would be refreshing.

When her final class of the day let out she headed out into the corridor and made her way downstairs. Just her luck – the Arithmancy room was on the sixth floor when she was heading out onto the grounds.

On the forth floor, however, she was caught off-guard by Cassandra stepping into her path.

"Hermione, you were just the person I was looking for," she gave her a sickly sweet smile and began to walk next to her.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked with a sigh. Usually they had a silent agreement to avoid each other at all costs.

"Now is that _any_ way to speak to your sister?" Hermione stopped short, not expecting to hear that. Not once in the three years that they lived together had Cassandra ever, _ever_ referred to Hermione as her sister. She shook her head and continued walking.

"You don't deserve to be spoken to with any more respect than a dog." Cassandra's jaw tightened but she quickly recovered and plastered a new smile on her face – one that was much more forced this time.

"Not anymore," she said with such cockiness Hermione had to sneer.

"My tolerance of you has just about reached its limit," Hermione closed her eyes for a moment to clam herself down and made it a point ignore Cassandra who continued to walk right beside her.

"I'm not done talking yet, Granger. You are going to listen to me," she snapped, annoyed. Hermione ignored her further, knowing it would bother her. If there was one thing Cassandra didn't like, it was being ignored.

"You will listen to me or else that reputation you've built up will be gone within the blink of an eye."

"You would never tell anyone about our accommodations. That's not only my lie, and I'll bet you have much more at stake than I do when it comes to _that_ secret of ours." They were on the third floor by now and Hermione didn't exactly want to show up in the entrance hall next to Cassandra. It was either talk or be stalked – so talk it was.

"No, I won't be doing anything of the sort. No, no, this is more about you personally and your… _attractions_ to a certain someone." She spoke slyly, trying to act coy about it. Hermione's insides twisted in the smallest bit – there was no way she could know about anything, right?

"Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?"

"Yes, Granger, you are." Her patience seemed to have run out because she didn't bother to put on a fake smile or smirk and stopped walking all-together.

"Sorry to disappoint you then. I'll be seeing you," Hermione replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She was about to take a step onto the staircase down to the second floor but was completely thrown off by Cassandra for the second time that day.

"I'm only going to say this once: Stay away from Draco." Her face was stony without a trace of anything other than seriousness.

"Why would I go near the likes of him?" Her heart began to race as she lied through her teeth.

"I think we both know the answer to that," Cassandra said eerily, but something was off in her voice. She was sure of herself when she had accused Hermione of associating with Draco, yes, but what she had just said was a lie. Hermione didn't speak for a moment while she tried to think through the situation.

"I promise, Cassandra, you won't be seeing me anywhere near him anytime soon." It wasn't a lie, and it hadn't confirmed or denied anything. It was a simple statement that could be taken various ways.

"If I see you take so much as one glance in his direction I'll-,"

"You'll what? Let everyone know I have some alleged crush on Malfoy? Even to you that sounds ridiculous. Give it up Cassandra." She shook her head, thoroughly annoyed by now. Even if Cassandra _did_ know anything she had no right to dictate who someone could or couldn't be around, whether it was Hermione or Draco Malfoy.

"I have proof!" she exclaimed, eyes flashing. Just by the expression on her face Hermione could tell that was a lie.

"Sure you do," Hermione said one last thing before ignoring Cassandra's talk and continuing down to the entrance hall.

---

When she saw Harry and Ron in the entrance hall the last thing she expected was to see them on edge. She slowed her pace, now reluctant to go by to them. Had Ginny mentioned something? Or was it Cassandra? After a second of debating she shook her head and continued on. She was just paranoid – all the things happening recently were getting to her.

She approached wondering what was wrong with them, a serious look on her face. Rather than wait for them to talk, which it looked like they were able to explode at her, she spoke first. "Is something wrong? What happened?" Her shoulders drooped when she saw the shadow of accusation in Ron's expression. She didn't need them to join the parade of problems that had taken course in her life.

"You've been off lately," Harry said quickly, looking at Ron for the briefest of moments, trying to speak before him obviously.

"Off how?" she frowned at this, not understanding how they could have picked up anything. In her opinion, she had been handling the situation well, doing her best not to allow them to notice her distress.

"You've been staring at Malfoy!" Ron finally said sharply, not lowering his voice to a level Hermione would have deemed appropriate for such a talk in the middle of the echoing entrance hall.

"I… No, I haven't," she declared brusquely.

"'Mione, you've been very stressed out lately, and I noticed you seemed most on-edge when we were around the Slytherins, particularly… him." Harry said more calmly than Ron. His voice wasn't attracting unwanted attention, at least.

Hermione's eyes scanned the hall, noting a few students paying attention inconspicuously. "How about we discuss this on our way to Hagrid's?" She didn't wait for a reply before leading them out of the hall and into the sunlight that spread across the grounds.

"We're not finished with this Hermione!" Ron huffed, following after her.

"Nor am I trying to finish the conversation. You were attracting the attention of every student in the Entrance Hall a moment ago!" Hermione lost her patience for a moment before recomposing herself. She could hardly blame them for trying to help her.

"What did he do? Did he say something recently? If he laid even a finger on you I'm going to-,"

"No! Merlin, no! Ron! Why is it such a bother to you; to both of you?" She turned her direction to Harry as well. "It's not as if he's been kind to me in the past. Nothing is different."

"What did he _do_ Hermione?" Harry pleaded with her to tell. She look at him, torn. What should she say? She had to lie, but how _much_?

"He… he didn't do anything he meant to do. It's my fault. I went and provoked him, and he retorted as usual, only I was surprised at his reaction." She hung her head, looking guilty. She didn't have to fake it either; she _did_ feel guilty for even starting talking to Draco in the first place three months ago.

"And his reaction was…?"

"He just said something I wasn't prepared to hear. It wouldn't be right to tell you what he said. Just trust me when I say that I was the one in the wrong, and he didn't do anything for once," she said desperately. She didn't even want to know what Draco would do if suddenly Harry and Ron accused him of doing something to her! He would find out everything and… it was just be awful.

Harry and Ron, however, didn't look convinced. Hermione sighed impatiently, "Don't say anything to him. Believe me; trust me. You two are my best friends, and I promise to you that if anything, _anything_, dangerous had happened or was said I would tell you."

Harry relinquished first saying, "Alright, 'Mione. But if I get so much of a hunch that he has done something…"

"He'll have us to deal with," Ron said sternly, and Hermione knew he was serious.

She had gotten off lucky this time with them agreeing to not approach Malfoy. Next time, they wouldn't be so gracious. She had to be more careful.

---

Cassandra walked into the Slytherin common room casually, trying not to attract any unwanted attention. There were only a few students inside at the moment, paying her no mind and focusing on whatever they were reading or studying. Inconspicuously, she made her way towards the staircase to the boy's dormitory and, once successfully up, opened the door into the sixth year room as quietly as possible. She looked around, checking if anyone was lounging around on their beds, and found it was vacant. She smirked to herself and made her way to Draco's trunk at the foot of his bed in a rush. She didn't know how much time she had to do this; someone was bound to walk in soon.

She had recently heard from one of Draco's fellow dorm mates that there seemed to be an awful lot of owling going on recently on Draco's part. The odd thing was that no reply was being received. Basing her suspicions of her stepsister and this sudden revelation of Draco's perked interested in writing letters, she had put two-and-two together and realized something must have sparked, causing Granger to suddenly act strange. She was determined to get to the bottom of it all!

She opened his trunk hastily and began rummaging through it, making sure to move the items in it as little as possible so Draco wouldn't notice anything out of place. There was nothing; nothing other than his extra schoolbooks and robes. She sighed irritably and closed the trunk with a huff. She stood up, ready to leave, when she caught sight of his bedside table which had a drawer attached. Determined, she moved to look at its contents quickly.

She pulled it open and found a stack of folded papers. No, not paper… letters. Private, unaddressed letters that were written in her step sister's distinct handwriting she had seen hundreds of times at home. _Jackpot_. She smirked, proud of her dirty work, and picked out a few random letters from the pile, hoping Draco wouldn't notice the stack's sudden shrink. If she had to, she could always come back for the rest at a later time.

She tucked the paper into the pockets of her robes, glad they were large, and closed the drawer carefully. She looked back at the room before exiting, hoping nothing was noticeably out of place. She smirked again and stealthily made her way back down to the common room where no one noticed her arrival from the boy's staircase. With a private smile she made way to her own room to read up on what exactly Hermione Granger had to say to her Draco.

Really! She had been sorted into Slytherin for a reason.

**---A/N---**

1) When Ginny says, "Long-distance relationships," I'm including friendships, acquaintances, etc. in that category.


	7. Consequences

**A/N:** Oh goodness! I was just rereading the story and freshening it up when I realized that I _duplicated a scene_!! I can't believe no one bothered to point it out to me. I patched it up now, so hopefully you can all forgive me hah. I've had a lot on my plate but I'll have you know that the epilogue may be in the near future…! Oh, and I also noticed that my line-break things aren't showing it. I'll fix those later tonight when I get off work. Sorry for the inconveniences! Enjoy the chapter though :).

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also based loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Update:** August 14, 2009

**Chapter Seven (Consequences)**

She had read over the letters and after just four she was already shocked. All of the things her _sister_ had told him… just how much _did_ she hate everything? She never complained at home, really… although it's not as if she had anything to complain about! She had a roof over her head, didn't she? The ungrateful mudblood!

Cassandra knew she had found something useful when she had initially taken the letters, but this was beyond any presumptions she had made. She had enough information to have Hermione in loads of trouble with mother; she would be doing chores until she died! But that wasn't her target at the moment. Oh no.

But before any plans could thoroughly be laid out, she needed to do more digging. Once she read all of those letters in Draco's drawer the _real_ fun would begin.

* * *

It was a week later that Hermione woke up and had a strange sense that something foreboding was amiss. She had, for the most part, felt the best she had in weeks. Telling Ginny about Malfoy had been one of the most relieving things she had done in a long while. Maybe, just maybe, she'd finally be able to tell all of her friends about her father soon. Maybe.

She was heading down to breakfast alone later that morning when she nearly walked right into Cassandra.

"Perfect timing – I was on my way to find you!"

"What do you want this time?" she said with an irritated sigh. A strange senses of déjà vu washed over her.

"You should watch your words with me, Granger. Getting me upset is not something you should aim to do…" she said with a snarky attitude.

"And why exactly would that be something I should avoid?" Hermione sighed, going along with her dramatics.

"I've got dirt on you Granger." She smirked and added, "In addition to your blood."

Hermione huffed and began to walk away to distance herself from Cassandra's immature antics.

"I'm not done talking yet, Granger. You are going to listen to me!" Hermione ignored her and continued walking in the opposite direct of Cassandra's drawling voice.

"'_I can't even begin to tell you what's it is like here… so lonely, so-_,'"

Hermione already had a wand to Cassandra's throat along with a look that could kill.

"You liked that, didn't you?" Cassandra smiled sickly sweet.

"Where did you read them? How did you get them?" Hermione yelled at her, voice echoing down the deserted corridor.

"I told you once, I'll tell you again: stay away from Draco. He is _mine_," she shoved Hermione off and began straightening her robes.

"And I found them… lying around."

"To hell you did, Cassandra! I swear to Merlin if you do anything-!"

"You'll…? Do nothing. Because there isn't much to do when you have no evidence," she laughed at her own words. "So, I figured that while I keep those letters nice and safe from anyone who may find them you could do me a favor."

"Like what?" Hermione replied angrily, gritting her teeth.

"For starters, you will _always_ address me as Cassandra and treat me with the utmost respect," she cocked a brow and stood up straighter as if to prove she deserved this respect she wanted. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'll also expect you to complete any homework assignments I ask of you," she smiled once again.

Hermione stared at her in disbelief. Do her homework? For what? To keep it all quiet for… an extra week? Maybe a month, tops?

"No," Hermione said automatically. She didn't even have to think about it.

Cassandra looked angry.

"What do you mean _no_? You're ready for everyone to find out all the things you've been hiding?"

"I-I don't know," she said stiffly. Cassandra smirked.

"How about I give you until tomorrow to decide? While I wait patiently here's my Charms assignment from earlier today. Have it to me by tomorrow." Cassandra held out a tattered piece of parchment.

Hermione ripped the parchment from Cassandra's hand, glared, and walked away angrily.

* * *

_I need to know who you are. I want to try and make this right. _

_I know there are a million reasons why you may have reacted as you did, but I need you to trust me when I tell you that the _real_ me is the one you see in these letters. I'm not going to apologize or give any excuses, because if I know you like I think I do, it isn't justification that you're looking for, but answers. All I can ask of you is to stop analyzing and start asking – I'm going mad with confusion._

_-DM_

Hermione sighed, setting the letter onto the growing pile. He had sent one at least every two days, sometimes daily. It was becoming routine for her: receive an owl, read the letter, stare at it for a moment, reread the letter, contemplate writing back, put the letter down, and walk away.

He had it dead on though: she _was_ analyzing everything, and all she wanted _was_ answers to all of these questions that had formed in her head over the past week! What would he say to her, though, if he knew who she was? The problem was that he was two different people, and although she wanted to trust him and believe the person from the letters was the real Draco Malfoy, everything he did and said proved otherwise.

Then again, he hadn't said much to her this year. Sure, comments between him and Harry had persisted – that would probably never stop – but he hadn't uttered so much as a meek insult to her. It was more like she didn't even exist.

She leaned backwards onto her four-poster sized bed and let out a frustrated shriek. How could she continue like this? Something had to be done!

She looked over at the scrap of parchment Cassandra had given her and saw two things: a step forward (good or bad she didn't know) and a road block that would mean consistent normality with nothing to lose (or gain).

* * *

"I'll be back in a bit. I've got to ask Professor Vector a question about one of these problems," Hermione said to Harry and Ron who were sitting beside her at one of the tables in the Gryffindor common room. It was the next day and they had been working on their homework together chatting lightly.

"Alright, don't take too long though. I still need some help with this Potions essay Snape assigned," Harry said, focusing on the paper in front of him.

"Don't worry I shouldn't be more than fifteen minutes." She smiled and pulled her bag onto her back. "Watch my books for me, will you?" Ron nodded and looked over at Harry's Potion book and began talking about how ridiculous Snape was and how glad he was for being able to drop that class.

Hermione walked down a couple flights of stairs before stopping in front of Cassandra, who was standing impatiently with her dark Slytherin green scarf and badge, looking out of place in the brightly lit corridor meant for the Ravenclaw students.

"Well, where's my assignment?" Cassandra asked impatiently, pushing herself away from the wall she had been leaning against. Her eyes flickered to Hermione's bag.

"I didn't do it," Hermione said indifferently.

"What? That's due tomorrow! I can't have that done in time! We had a deal, I waited today-,"

"We did _not_ have a deal. Do your own work, Cassandra," she shook her head in frustration and began to turn away.

"Do you _want_ me to tell everyone!?" Cassandra said in fury, looking like she was ready to throw an Unforgivable in Hermione's direction.

"To tell you the truth, I don't give a damn anymore!" Hermione yelled, throwing her hands into the air in defeat.

"Just remember that I gave you an alterative, and you brought this upon yourself!" Cassandra said wickedly, spinning on her heel and walking away.

Hermione headed back to her common room in a mood she couldn't place; it was somewhere between anger, self-pity, and apprehensiveness. She wasn't paying much attention to where she was going, so when she collided with another person and landed on the floor she felt a bit dazed.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention, here," she fixed herself and bent over to pick up some of the papers that had fallen from the other person's hands. When she saw the scripture she nearly dropped them again because it was familiar and belonged to the one person she didn't care to see most right now.

She looked up and nearly shoved the papers into his hands before averting her eyes to the wall behind him, to the floor, then back to the wall.

"Watch where you're walking next time," he sneered, and she turned her gaze into his cold eyes. His eyes narrowed.

"You are unbelievable," she said, shaking her head and began to walk away from him.

"Wait, what?" he had a confused look on his face as he turned around to face her retreating self again.

"Don't talk to me, Malfoy. Just stop," she didn't even turn around while she said it and continued to walk away from him.

* * *

"Something happened with Professor Vector?" Harry said as she sat down next to him.

"Oh, nothing important," she mumbled.

"Did he help you alright, then?" he asked, trying to figure out where her sudden change of mood came from.

"Yes," she said shortly and began flipping through a book to busy herself.

She let out a quite sigh. What was she going to do? What was _Cassandra_ going to do? She stared at the words, not really reading them, and leaned back into the chair. Great, this was just _great_.

* * *

He was confused. He, Draco Malfoy, was utterly _confused_.

If someone had asked him ten minutes before he would have said he was determined. That was until he ran into Granger in the hall.

Since when did he pay her any mind? Never… until now. Because just now he realized something: she was familiar. Familiar in a way he didn't _want_ her to be. At least, he didn't think he wanted her to be.

Then again… didn't it make sense?

_No, no_, he told himself stubbornly. There was no way; **no**.

But why _not_? Was there really a reason why Hermione Granger couldn't be the person he was looking for?

Was it blood? Did that even matter anymore? Not really, he told himself. It was difficult to know for sure though. Maybe blood _did_ matter! That's what his father had told him for the past sixteen years of his life. His head spun in confusion. Lately he had been having second thoughts about everything – nothing was a sure fact anymore.

And of course Granger of the bloody _"Merry Three"_ had to be the person who had made him start reconsidering things without even meaning to. That sounded just like her.

She had been genuinely surprised when she saw his face at the ball, so he was positive she hadn't known his identity beforehand. Of course, now he understood _why_ she had run away. Quite frankly, he couldn't say he blamed her.

That is, if it even _was_ her.

Perhaps he was just jumping to conclusions.

But what if he wasn't… then what? Was Granger even an option if he wanted to (dare he say it) be with her?

However, she was the one that had run away from him and was currently avoiding him. She clearly didn't think it was a possibility that anything more could be between them.

But what about everything they had learned about each other? Didn't that matter?

As he thought over everything he knew about the girl he tired to put Granger's face to the knowledge, but couldn't. How could Granger have kept all those secrets from her wonder-boys?

But he already knew the answer: Nobility. Leave it to Granger to do something like _that_.

As unlikely as it seemed to him, the more believable it became.

His thoughts swirled in his mind as Draco made his way into his own dormitory and away from the students in the common room. He needed to think.

* * *

He hadn't sent her one letter for the past four days. _Not one_! This was the longest they had ever gone without contact and it was making Hermione rather nervous. What if Cassandra had… no. She didn't even want to think about it let alone consider its actual happening.

Still, she couldn't help but feel as if Malfoy knew something more than he had three days ago. Sometimes she swore felt eyes on her, but when she looked up his eyes were always in the opposite direction from wherever she was. Despite all the evidence that he was still clueless, she couldn't shake away the inkling that something wasn't quite right.

* * *

The next morning was a normal one. Hermione had woken up, gotten dressed, fixed her appearance as much as she cared to, and headed down the stairs into the common room. Harry and Ron were waiting for her, as usual, and the trio waited for Ginny to arrive and chatted amongst themselves until she arrived five minutes later.

"I don't understand why it takes you all so long to get ready. Just throw on your robes and you're done!" Ron said easily, chin held high as if setting an example of himself.

"Not all of us can pull off the 'I'm dirty and just woke up' look, Ron," Ginny said, rolling her eyes at her brother. "Besides, some of us want to look good for certain people." She nudged Harry with her elbow and he smiled down at her.

"Don't worry about that one, Gin, you've got it covered," Harry said sweetly and put his arm around her shoulder.

"Please, not when I'm here," Ron grumbled, looking a bit cross. Hermione laughed.

"Don't be so-," Hermione froze, open-mouthed, staring at a piece of parchment stuck to the stone wall next to Ron. A piece of parchment with her face on one side and a quote on the other.

_It's a strange thing, not being able to share the truth with my best friends, yet I can sit here and write to you without hesitation. Maybe it's because you aren't quite real to me… yet. Not meaning to offend, of course, but I think you understand what I mean. We've both written things that we can't say…_

Hermione ripped the parchment from the wall before Harry, Ron, or Ginny could get a look.

"Hey, what is that?" Ron said curiously, trying to reach the parchment she had snagged off the wall.

"It's nothing!" she said frantically, shoving it into her pocket. If this one was here… how many more _were_ there? She started walking quickly down the corridor, speeding up until she was about as close to running as one could get.

When she turned the next corner she was another flier hanging; her face once again right next to the caption.

_Well… this is embarrassing, to say the least. However I'll tell you but this also marks the end of this 'I'll-answer-any-question' challenge we're having. The furthest was only a kiss, and it didn't even mean much to me. Maybe one day a kiss will, but so far they've all been empty of anything that felt worthwhile or long-lasting._

She felt her insides freeze. No... No one was supposed to read those. She stared at the words, suddenly short of breath. She wretched the paper from the wall with a cry and curled it into a ball, shoving it once again into her pocket.

"Hey! 'Mione what's going on?" She heard Ginny's voice calling from down the hall and a sudden flash of anger rushed through her.

Cassandra was in trouble.

Not bothering to follow the rule, Hermione started running down the corridor, checking the walls and taking down any of the papers she saw. She had gathered about six, two of which were being read at the time of their confiscation, until she reached the entrance hall. Aligning the walls in rows was at least thirty different parchments, all on display. Quite a few students were reading some of them and _laughing_.

"_Accio parchments_!" Hermione exclaimed, and a slew of papers came floating towards her and landed in a pile at her feet. She knelt down swiftly and began shoving them into her robes, hiding the papers from anyone's view.

"Hermione! What the hell…" Harry paused at looked at Hermione on the floor gathering the papers.

"Why is your picture on all of these?" Harry started to bend over to grab one.

"No! Just leave it, don't!" She leaped forward to stop him from reaching it before her and crumbled it into a ball. Unfortunately Ron seemed to have the same notion at Harry and picked one up off the floor faster than Hermione could reach him. She abandoned the ones on the floor and reached towards Ron to try and snatch it from his grasp, but he was too fast.

"Stop it Ron!!" she cried, trying to get to him.

"What _is_ this, Hermione? 'That's hardly something I can easily tell you, but I'll try my best to explain. After my mother died, then after-,'" Ron stopped speaking at once, narrowing his eyes, reading to himself.

(_…died, then after my father, I wasn't sure I had enough in me to keep going. I didn't tell my friends – my _best_ friends – so I was alone. They still don't know, and sometimes I still feel alone._)

Hermione didn't move – she couldn't move if she tried.

"What the bloody hell is this?" he said accusingly, passing the paper over to Harry angrily. His eyes skimmed the paper and Ginny looked over his shoulder.

"Oh! 'Mione… what in Merlin's name…" Ginny's eyes went wide.

Hermione couldn't speak. It felt like the world was crashing around her. She could hear her pulse in her ears, pounding at the rate of her heart. She backed away from them a step and slowly shook her head.

"It's nothing… just a letter. It's nothing," she said in a quiet voice. Her eyes flickered to Ginny's before falling to the ground.

"Hermione you didn't tell us any of this, I thought we were all friends?" Ginny spoke coolly, surprising Hermione. She was sure it would have been Ron or Harry to speak first.

She looked away from them, to the floor, and her eyes caught another one of the fliers:

…_You're much too thorough to be a Hufflepuff, and I doubt any of my housemates have such skill with a quill and ink, considering a good handful of them more egocentric than they'd like to admit._

How many of these had Cassandra made? Was each of them different? How could this be happening to her all at once? Hermione couldn't focus on anything but the flier at her feet, taunting her.

She looked up into the suspecting and accusing eyes of her friends and couldn't take any more of it. Eyes filling with tears, Hermione turned on her heel and walked away from her three best friends in shame.

* * *

She didn't go to any of her classes for the first time in six years. She just couldn't.

Cassandra had done worse than tell Malfoy her identity; she had made her entire private life become something known to the rest of the school in a matter of hours. It was humiliating and shameful. She could care less about the rest of the students, really – it was Harry and Ron who would be hurt most by this, and for that she could never forgive herself. She had lied. Flat-out lied and she knew her excuse wouldn't be acceptable for them.

It was about seven o'clock when Hermione made her way down the stairs in the common room slowly. She was starved, not having eaten anything since the previous night at dinner.

The common room was somewhat full, and she took a quick glance around the room before turning her eyes to the floor and exiting the area as fast as her feet would take her.

She had just walked out of the portrait, believing she was in the clear, when she realized someone had followed her _out_ of the common room. She turned around and Harry and Ron were looking at her with blank faces. She said nothing but looked anywhere but their eyes.

"We, uh, got most of the posters down," Harry said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Oh… thank you guys," she said quietly.

"Are you going down to the kitchens? You're bound to be hungry…" Ron said awkwardly, but not with malice.

"Yeah."

"Want some company?" Ron said again, and offered her a sideways smile.

"Sure." She nodded with a little, sorry smile of her own. "Thanks."

**Review? Thanks for all of the support!**


	8. The End of Secrets

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also base loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Update:** January 11, 2009

**Chapter Eight (The End of Secrets)**

It wasn't until they reached the kitchens and she had started eating when Ron and Harry started looking at her with expectancy. They wanted an explanation, and she'd have to give one to them.

"Did anyone say anything during classes…?" Hermione said starting the conversation she knew had to come at some point. Harry and Ron caught each other's eyes and quickly looked away.

"Not really," Harry said hastily. Hermione frowned; obviously that was a lie and she had been the topic of more than a few conversations that day.

"Who put up all of those signs? And where did they get them? And you said they were letters! Who were they to? And… and what about your dad? You never once mentioned anything!" Ron seemed to be unable to hold back any longer. Hermione looked at her food for a long while before answering.

"Those were private letters that I wrote to… someone. None of that was meant to be told to anyone else and this person would never do something like this on purpose."

Harry looked at her, confused. Ron made a face at her.

"Then how did excerpts from those letters end up posted to the walls around the school?" Ron said, looking like he was losing his patience. Harry nudged him in the arm. Hermione shifted in her seat, uncomfortable.

"Cassandra Hazen put them up… she found them."

"Why would she do that? Sure, we're not her favorite people, but that doesn't give her any legit reason to-,"

"She's my step-sister."

Harry and Ron looked dumbfounded. They were staring at her as if they had just seen The Fountain of Fair Fortune. She sighed, realizing what she was getting into and knowing it wasn't going to go away until she explained everything to them.

"The summer after my forth year, a year after my mother died, I arrived home to find my dad married to Madam Hazen, who is a terrible person that you two are very lucky to have never met before. Back to the point, I came home and suddenly I was thrown into this world featuring Cassandra, Riley, Cassandra's squib sister, and the madam. They, the Hazens, ended up moving into our home in Muggle London, where they incorporated magic into our lives. My father had never told me where he had met Madam Hazen, but I'm quite sure it was _she_ who found _him_.

"It was late August, however, when my father died. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but he also got into a car accident on his way home from work. I-I didn't mean to keep the two of you in the dark from this, I really didn't. I was planning on telling you everything when I saw you again at school! Then everything with the Prophet and Order of the Phoenix happened and all of those new problems were piling up on top of that – I couldn't put my troubles on you, on either of you." She tried her best to explain her reasoning, nearly begging out her excuses.

"Hermione, you could have told us – this was important. Just because we're in the midst of a war doesn't mean you shouldn't tell us your problems too. And this is just…" Harry looked very hurt by all of this and guilt flooded through her. "_Hermione_ you're father died. You should know you could tell us something like that no matter what is going on with us."

"I know, Harry, but it was all just so sudden. Everything just _happened_! He was there one day, gone the next; the next thing I knew I was being owled by Dumbledore that I was going to be taken to the Headquarters and left a day after my father's funeral. Then I learned everything that had happened over the summer – and you arrived and felt so lonely! I'm not blaming this on anyone but myself – I should have told the both of you and I can't pretend like this wasn't a mistake, because it was." Hermione felt her eyes watering and the tears that had flown earlier returning.

She had thought over what she was going to say to Harry and Ron when the time came earlier. Of course, all of that was forgotten once she had started speaking.

There was a strained silence between the trio and none of them spoke. Hermione sniffled a bit, trying to hold back any more tears that may have come.

"So who were the letters to?" Ron said finally, breaking the silence. Hermione tensed; she had hoped to avoid this somehow.

"They were to no one." She looked at him seriously, warning him not to ask.

"How could Cassandra have gotten hold of those letters, then?" Ron asked, trying to evade her evasion of the topic.

"She must have taken them because there is no way he would have given them to her," Hermione said, eyes flashing with anger towards Cassandra.

"_He_? He…?" Harry's words trailed off until he sat stiff as can be. "Hermione. What. The. Hell." Harry physically stood from his seat this time, fists clenched.

Hermione froze as she recalled the conversation they had held just a few days prior. _Bloody hell, why does this always happen to me…!_

"Calm down, Harry! It's nothing – it-it's not a big deal!" she pleaded, trying to calm him, and also stood up.

"Why the hell were you willing to tell Draco Malfoy-"

"_WHAT_!" (Ron had finally caught on)

"-things like that but not _us_? We trusted you, Hermione, and you lied to us."

"I didn't know it was him! Please just sit down and listen! I want to explain myself, please! I swear I didn't know!"

"Sit down Harry! Just listen to her!" Ron said, angry himself, but wanting to know what was going on _now_.

"Ron! She's been sharing Merlin-knows-what with Malfoy! For all we know she could have relayed information about the Order-!"

"Harry!" Hermione took a step away from him, shocked. "I can't believe you'd actually accuse me of betraying-,"

"Do you hear yourself!? You're the one who's been keeping secrets from us this entire time – two years now!"

"Yes, Harry, secrets to keep _you_ calm and to prevent anything else from coming in the way of defeating Voldemort. I can't believe you." She shook her head at him, disturbed by his words. Harry didn't respond, but clenched his jaw and sat down at the table again next to Ron none-too-gracefully.

"Keep going, 'Mione," Ron said stiffly, glaring hard at Harry, to Hermione's surprise. For the first time in years Ron was being the collected one and it was Harry that was exploding. She glared hard at Harry before taking a breath and beginning to speak again.

"So this past summer was the first with the Hazens alone and it was difficult. I was subjected to mainly housework and chores – most likely how it is with you and the Dursley's." She nodded her head at Harry.

"Do you remember, last year, when there was a package on the ground on the Hogwarts Express and I picked it up in order to return it to the person it belonged? Well, I sent it over and he sent a letter back; we got to talking. We became… friends, of a sort, but neither of us told the other who we were.

"Then came the stupid Masquerade Ball, and it was naturally the _perfect_ chance to finally meet. Needless to say, I didn't leave early to my room that night as you two thought. We got along well, which was nice (Harry coughed), and we went for a walk on the grounds. When midnight came around and the Ball was ending, he told me he wanted to show himself to me. I was reluctant at first but finally agreed, and well… you know." Harry still looked angry and Ron's brow was knitted in concentration.

"Of course, when I saw him I didn't know what to say. I just told him to leave me alone and stop writing. I hadn't taken off my own mask yet, since I didn't know what he'd do, so I just ran away." She stopped talking and looked at Harry, wondering if his outlook had changed at all. He didn't say anything.

"Then how did Cassandra know anything at all?" Ron said, ignoring Harry's angry self next to him.

"I… I don't actually know. All she said was that she 'heard something interesting,' about me being 'infatuated' with Draco, then proceeded to blackmail me into doing her homework. Obviously, I declined, and so… here we are," she said finally, glad that this story of hers was over with.

"That's a lot to lay on us so suddenly, 'Mione. You should have told us earlier, like we said before." Ron stared at the table in front of him in concentration, looking a bit torn.

"I still don't see how you allowed yourself to become friends with Malfoy," Harry said with less malice than he held before.

"I didn't 'allow' myself to do anything, Harry. It just happened," she glared at him and held back the urge to roll her eyes.

"It could have been prevented. All of this could have been prevented!" He looked frustrated, and Hermione looked away from him. He was just very testy lately, although she completely understood why he was that way. The entire buzz with Voldemort's upcoming plans was getting to him – it was getting to all of them.

"I don't know what to tell you, but I can say that I don't regret starting to talk to him. He's a good person from what I've gathered and although he _is_ Malfoy, I think I may be willing to give him the benefit of th-,"

"Are you listening to yourself Hermione! What is wrong with you! He's a Death Eater-in-training and his father is Voldemort's favorite bloody death eater! He's evil and a few scraps of parchment and clever words can't change that!" Harry exploded once again, staring at her accusingly.

"I think you two should leave. Thank you both for the company but I can tell one of you doesn't want to be near me. When you suddenly gain the ability to speak to me civilly come find me," Hermione spoke harshly to Harry, and just glanced at Ron and mumbled a 'Thanks' and they left together.

At least they were getting _somewhere_, even if it would take some time for Harry (and possibly Ron, too, since he hadn't really given much of his opinion) to come around.

She sighed and stood up, deciding it would be best to head back as well, and made her way out of the kitchen.

Of course, it was physically _impossible_ for her to complete a trip to a specific destination without passing by someone she couldn't care to see at the time. Alas, when none other than Draco Malfoy rounded the corner right in front of her, it was only natural she would freeze on the spot.

Let's just say awkward doesn't describe the half of it.

They looked at each other, Hermione with fear and humiliation; Malfoy with genuine surprise, since he hardly expected to (nearly) run into her.

"Uh…" Hermione didn't even know where to start, so she decided simply _not_ to, and forced her feet to move as quickly as possible, without running, away from Malfoy.

He didn't say a word.

It wasn't until the following day, when she had mustered up enough courage to leave the shelter of her dormitory and go to classes, that she saw Cassandra.

She had been heading for the Great Hall for dinner and just as she was about to go down a flight of stairs she passed a group of Slytherins, Cassandra among them. Intending to walk past them silently, she ignored them all-together as if they weren't there. Only when Cassandra spoke did she bother to even make the slightest notion that they were even there.

"We didn't see you in class yesterday, Granger; what's got you off your high horse?"

Hermione made no reply and continued walking.

"It's not as if anything of any _importance_ happened. So what? Your friends know the truth about you now – you're a desperate orphan with, well, no one."

Hermione now stood still, glaring at her. "And what about _you_? I'm _sure_ there are secrets you're hiding."

"Hardly," Cassandra said, eyes flashing to the crowd behind her. Hermione smirked; might as well have fun with this – it's not as if there was anything worthwhile to keep hidden anymore.

"So have you talked to Riley since you left home? How is life without magic treating her? And what about the Madam? Hopefully she hasn't-,"

"Shut up, Mudblood! You don't even know what you're talking about!" Cassandra took a step forward as if to intimidate her.

"Of course I do – I _do_ live with you," Hermione said casually, smirking all the while. A collective gasp came from the small horde of Slytherins.

"Liar!" Cassandra's foot stomped on the stone floor with an echo.

Hermione gave a wave and proceeded down the stairs to the Great Hall as she originally intended.

**Review Please**


	9. Unexpected Endowment

**A/N:** Second to last chapter. Annnd since I'm an amazing authoress who hasn't done this in AGES I'm going to have lots of fun making my readers wait for the next and last chapter (aside from the epilogue)! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also base loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Update:** January 11, 2009

**Chapter Nine (Unexpected Endowment)**

The usual buzz of excitement came with the holidays as the month of December rolled in. The entire student body seemed to have left all of the foreboding notions of war in November and moods were light for the time being.

Although the trio had been going through and awkward stage of rebuilding some of the trust lost, they were, for the most part, joining in on the festivities. The holiday Hogsmeade trip before break was the upcoming Saturday and Hermione was brainstorming what to get each of her friends. By the time the weekend started she had decided to just go and browse until she found the perfect gift.

She, Harry, Ron, and Ginny shared a carriage down to the village and chatted happily within the warmth of it. When they reached their destination, they each agreed to go their separate ways for a few hours to shop on their own and planned to meet at The Three Broomsticks at four in order to warm up and then continue the trip with a walk around the snowy village.

Tightening the scarf around her neck, Hermione walked past various shops that would be of no help to her for what she was looking for. Since Harry and Ron had gone the opposite direction, she figured it would be safe to enter Honeydukes when she spotted the store. She headed over and walked inside to find it packed with visiting Hogwarts students. She trotted down the isles, looking for anything Harry or Ron may like. After a bit of looking she decided on a Box of Growing Sweets (an automatic monthly candy restocking box) for Ron. Harry's present, she decided, would have to wait since he wasn't as enthusiastic about sweets as Ron. (Then again, who was?)

The cold stung against her cheeks when she walked back onto the streets, causing a chill to run through her at the contrast from the warm sweet shop. She continued down the path and turned into the familiar book store she visited each time she came to the village. The shopkeeper smiled warmly and spoke to her as usual.

"How are you doing today, Miss Granger?"

"Fine, thank you; I'm just shopping for the holidays." She smiled at the elderly man.

"Ah, getting a head start I see! Well if you need any opinions just ask me," he said warmly and went back to organizing some of the books in front of him. She looked around carefully, occasionally reaching for a book that sparked her interested by placing it back on the shelf reluctantly; today she was shopping for her _friends_, not herself.

In the end, she decided on _100 Hairstyles in Style_ for Ginny, which was 'Self-Updating,' according to the cover. Of course, she also chose _one_ book for herself in the end. Really, who could pass up a discounted, special-edition version of _Undeciphered Prophecies of Numbers_?

Since Harry was the only person left to shop for (other than Mrs. Weasley, who she planned to give enchanted knitting needles), she made her way to the Quidditch supply shop. Although she didn't know much about quidditch, she figured she would come across something.

She was just looking through the accessories when she passed a display advertising a water-repellant cloak specifically designed for high altitudes, temperatures, and speed. There were various colors and sizes, and each was unique in that it was for a specific position. They were very, very nice. She looked at the price and her eyes went wide: 20 galleons! She had spent about five each on Ron and Ginny. Sighing, she turned away from it.

She continued looking and finally chose a book of quidditch moves and techniques as well as a new pair of leather Seeker gloves, since she remembered him saying recently that his were worn out. She moved to the register to a man who looked to be in his mid-30s and he looked down at the two items, ready to tell her the total.

On a whim she spoke up at the last moment. "Actually, sir, I would like to purchase one of those cloaks over there." She said to the clerk. He turned his head to the boxed-off display.

"Ah, yes, fine choice, very fine choice indeed. For what position would you like one for?" He made his way over to the cloaks and began carefully shifting through them.

"Seeker… what colors have you got?"

"We have black, red, blue, green, brown, and gray. Which color would you like?"

"Green," she said slowly, knowing that this was a bad idea. The man pulled a forest green cloak from the pile and moved back to the magical register to ring her up.

"That will be 24 galleons, four Sickles, dear," he said with a smile. Hermione forced a smile back with an inner conflict brewing within her.

_It's too late to back out now_.

She pulled out the money from her pocket; she couldn't believe she was doing this.

The weeks passed smoothly, and no longer did she hear from Malfoy nor did she try to contact him. She missed him… well, the _idea_ of him. Her pen pal – that's who she missed. More than a month later and she was still trying to fill that small, tiny void that appeared when he disappeared. Her friends were being supportive, at least. Although she had hidden things from them they realized that helping cope with her problems were more important that hating her for having and hiding them.

It was just a few days after the holiday breaks began, Christmas Eve, and Hermione was preparing her gifts to be sent out that night. She wrapped them each skillfully, using a few spells she learned from books to decorate the ones for her best friends and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. When she came to Malfoys, she hit a road block. Should she write her name? She figured he would assume who it was from… then again, maybe he wouldn't. She settled on a scrap of paper that had two letters: _HG_, scribbled on it. From there she folded it neatly into a black box and set it on the pile along with the others.

Hermione awoke Christmas morning from a knock on her door. There were no other girls in her year staying over the holidays, and she had planned to sleep in. She stood up groggily and opened the door. At her feet was a ball. She bent down to pick it up and looked at it, confused.

"Hermione!" She heard a voice call from down the stairs. She turned the corner and looked down to see Harry smiling up at her.

"I can't get up the staircase," he said with a shrug. Hermione and laughed and made her way down the steps.

"This is yours…?" Hermione handed the ball back to him.

"Well I had to get you awake somehow! Lucky for me you're a light sleeper, and I knew it." He turned towards the tree that the house elves had erected in the corner of the common room. "Presents!" He said happily, kneeling down in front of the pile. Hermione laughed and joined him, reaching for them.

"This one is for you… from Ron," she handed over an un-neatly wrapped gift in an odd shape.

"Oh! I've been wanting one of these!" Harry said before even opening it.

"How'd you know what it was?" She found herself laughing again.

"Well look at the job he did wrapping!" He ripped open the gift and his eyes lit up at some Quidditch contraption. Hermione muttered, "_boys_," and proceeded to open her presents.

She and Harry continued to take turns happily, and she found herself enjoying of the best Christmas mornings she had experienced in a long time. She was so lucky to have such great friends.

Ron and Ginny had gone home for the holidays, and although both Harry and Hermione had been invited, they agreed to politely decline and allow them to have a family Christmas. Of course, they both got return letters from Mrs. Weasley telling them they _were _part of the family, but they would both be missed this year.

All-in-all, she received a good load of presents from each of her friends. Ron had given her a pair of gaudy scarlet and gold earrings which she would _never_ wear (at least the poor bloke tried) that Harry had laughed at hysterically for a good five minutes. Harry had given her an Auto-Correcting Quill that fixed up grammatical and spelling mistakes seconds after one was made, which Hermione thanked him for with a trampling hug. Ginny sent her _Top 100 Most Wanted Men in the World_, a self-updating book; Hermione didn't know what to think of it, but was guilty of flipping it open and staring a quite a few pages before Harry noticed her distraction, stole it from her grasp, and made fun of her some more. Finally, Neville sent her a Thank You card for all of the help in Transfiguration.

_…Of course you shouldn't have expected anything!_ She scolded herself. It wasn't as if they even talked any more, let alone give each other presents. Her gift to him would probably be thrown at the bottom of his pile anyways.

She brushed off the thought and gathered all of her presents and vanished all of the excess wrapping paper. She and Harry both agreed to put on the custom-made sweaters Mrs. Weasley had knitted them both and go down to the Great Hall for the small Christmas feast that was thrown every year.

When she made it to her room and set all of her things on her bed she threw on a more fitting pair of pants to go to breakfast and pulled her new sweater over her head. She checked her appearance in the mirror very quickly and was about to walk down the stairs to where Harry was waiting when she saw a wrapped present on her bed. She turned to her bed and sat down; it must have just arrived because it hadn't been there a minute ago.

It was square, rather heavy, and wrapped neatly in plain gold wrapping paper. There was no note or card, but she had a inkling of who it was from. Slowly, she unwrapped the gift. As the paper fell off of it her eyes widened and her breath stopped short.

She remembered; how could she _forget_? It had been an ongoing conversation between them, one often brought up. The book. _Her_ book. Her book that was given to her by her father before he died. The _last_ gift he had _ever_ given to her – and she had lost it. Not so much as lost it, but it was lost when Madam Hazen decided that it was up to her to see to what was going to be kept of her father's possessions and what was to be sold.

How he had located it, she didn't know. What she did know, however, was that he had gone through a lot of trouble to get this. For _her_.

The fact that, even after everything the past two months had brought them to, he had gone through the trouble to give her something so _meaningful_ was all it took for Hermione to immediately reconsider everything.

She had told herself over and over again that he wasn't worth it – he wasn't worth her thoughts or, Merlin forbid, her heart. But he was. And this was the proof.

She grasped the book to her chest, holding it as if it was her last connection to the father who she was never able to say goodbye to properly – because it was. She flipped open the cover and read the inscription her father had written for her.

_To my darling daughter,_  
_ The human heart has hidden treasures, in secrets kept, in silence sealed; the thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, whose charms were broken if revealed._

_From your loving father_

Tears rolled down her face as the impact of the gift hit her with full force. Nothing she could ever do would amount to the gratitude she felt towards Draco Malfoy. He had done this for her; no other motives other than her happiness. The desire to go find him right now and thank him was strong within her, but she knew she could never do it.

Harry was waiting for her in the common room. If he saw her like this he would know something was up. She carefully set the book on her night table standing upright. She stared at it for a moment and stood to recompose herself.

Draco had gone through metaphorical hell to get that book, he really had. But it was worth it. He only wished he could have seen her face upon opening it. When he bought it off of the street urchin who had stolen it from the third hand-down bookstore it had belonged to he knew that this would mean something more than even he could explain. And he wanted it to.

It had taken him two long pathetic months to come to terms with it. But now he could say it to himself openly… He liked Hermione Granger. Everything he was brought up hate was her: and he _liked _her. A whole lot.

He had almost scraped up the nerve to say something before the holidays, but he figured it would be futile. Not without a good reason – not without a good, solid example of how much he really did like her. And that book was it.

He knew it, and he knew she knew it.

When break ended it seemed like the world was closing in on her. She had been planning on doing this since she received the book. She would approach him, and they would talk about this. Finally.

When she went down to breakfast the first morning of classes she watched the entrance to the Great Hall intently. She was waiting for him to walk in, but he never did. Confused, she left breakfast with the rest of the school to get to her first class.

She had to wait until Transfiguration to see him. It wasn't until the bell was seconds away from ringing when he walked him. She was staring at him, purposefully, and she knew he could feel it. But he didn't turn. Not once. She felt a bit of her determination sink.

"What's got you, 'Mione," Harry nudged her elbow from the table. She turned and smiled at him.

"Nothing…" she said casually and proceeded to take notes, highly disappointed.

When class ended he was the first one out of his seat and out of the door. Hermione hurried after him and was lucky enough to see him turn the corner just as she left the room. She followed after him quickly, but was stopped when she nearly ran into someone as she turned the corner.

"Watch it!" Cassandra wasn't looking all that happy.

"Fine," Hermione said and her eyes went behind Cassandra to see if Malfoy was still around. He was gone. She let out a frustrated sigh. He sends her the book and then avoids her like the plague! What was his problem!?

"I thought I told you to stay away from him!" Cassandra said quite suddenly.

"I thought we were done associating. Haven't you done enough?" Hermione said coolly.

"Not if you haven't left him alone yet. As I said – stay away from us; him and me." Her eyes narrowed and Hermione gave her an amused look.

"There is no 'us' between you and him Cassandra, don't you understand yet? He doesn't want you. At all."

"And how the bloody hell would you know!" she recoiled, but looked a little hurt by the words.

"Take a look at how he treats you; anyone could tell you the same." Hermione turned on her heel and went back to the Transfiguration corridor, knowing Harry and Ron were somewhere over there.

**---A/N---**

1. The idea of the book and it being the last gift given to Hermione by her father was from the movie Definitely, Maybe, which I reccommend to anyone who enjoys romantic comedies.  
2. The inscription from Hermione's father is from _Jane Eyre_ by Charlotte Brontė, and I take no credit for it.

**Review Please**


	10. Decisions

**A/N:** It's nearly 2 AM and I am finally, _finally_, posting the last chapter to the squeaky-clean, revised version of A Tale of Cinderella. I do hope that everyone enjoyed the remaking of this tale. PS; I'm sorry for the long wait since last chapter. I was just waiting for the right moment (unfortunately for me it came at midnight when I've got class in six hours and homework I have yet to start).

**  
****Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also base loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Updated On:** April 4, 2009

**Thanks To...** All of my faithful readers who've read the original version and have stuck it through until the end of this revision. Also to all reviewers - your feedback is what motivates me to continue a story

**Chapter Ten **(Decisions)

He wasn't trying to avoid her… not _really_. Sure, he had escaped the Transfiguration classroom a little quicker than usual, but it was not, _not_ to avoid Granger. Was it?

He was confused. He didn't know what would happen. Sure, he could admit he liked her! But he couldn't yet admit to _wanting_ her. Wanting could consist of being around her… in public. Around people who judge and have expectations of him. Maybe… if something _were _to happen they could keep it secret? No. She wasn't that type of girl, and he knew it.

And that's where the problem existed.

It was now the third day after break ended and _still _she hadn't been able to catch Malfoy. He was avoiding her like the plague. She promised herself that if she didn't talk to him by the end of the week she would simply stop trying. If he was going to avoid her, _fine_. The present would become a parting gift, not a sign of worth. Lately, she had been rethinking the purpose of his gift regardless. Why now, two months later, would he finally acknowledge her?

She was giving him too much credit. However much she wanted him to be the person she wrote to, he just couldn't seem to measure up to it in real life.

Her point was proven that night at dinner when she looked up from her food and at the Slytherin table. It seemed to happen in slow motion.

She was sure Malfoy had been sitting alone just minutes before (she was guilty of taking consistent glances up). However, now Samantha, a Slytherin student also in her year who wasn't nearly as terrible as Pansy or Cassandra, was sitting next to him on the bench. Very closely. She was smiling at him in a flirtatious way that Hermione wouldn't dream of attempting.

_Not a big deal; stop being so clingy! He's not even your friend, let alone… something else! And look, it's all _her_ not hi-_

Then they were _kissing_! Right there. In the middle of the Great Hall! Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Oh my! Hermione…" Ginny was turned around, looking over at the Slytherin table, completely surprised. She must have seen Hermione's staring and expression. She whipped around and gave Hermione a sympathetic look.

With Ginny's outburst came Hermione snapping back into reality. She was smiling softly at Ginny, faking oblivion.

"What? No problem," she gave a very, very small laugh and turned to Ron on her left.

"No! Hermione, it is," Ginny said in an angry-Weasley-on-the-loose tone, making Harry and Ron stop their conversation and turn towards them.

"Look, it's no big deal. We haven't spoken in ages," Hermione said nonchalantly, giving a not-right-now kind of look, not wanting Harry and Ron to be clued in.

"That doesn't make it 'fine'." Ginny simply refused to stop talking.

"Who're you talking about?" Ron had the nerve to speak up.

"The bloody ferret, that's who!" Ginny said sourly.

"Ginny!" Hermione nearly shouted. Oh great…

"What'd he do-? Oh," Harry had taken a not-so-inconspicuous glance over and then looked at Hermione. He didn't know what to say… it was Malfoy! _I'm so sorry Draco Malfoy is kissing some other girl two tables over. I really was rooting for you two._ No way. Secretly, he was pleased by the public display… for Hermione's sake of course. He knew Malfoy would be nothing but trouble if (Merlin forbid!) they started something. Harry cringed; what a terrible thought.

"Oi! What's he doing it right there for?" Ron said bitterly.

"Look, I'm going to get to class, I don't want to be late!" Hermione said quickly while grabbing her bag and running out before anyone could protest.

"She's in my class…" Harry said offhandedly.

"Honestly! That damn boy needs to get his head straight! I feel like marching over there right now and giving him a piece of my mind!" Ginny crossed her arms over her chest in frustration.

"Yeah I'll join you and throw a punch for the hell of it," Ron added on with more enthusiasm at the idea than necessary.

"Honestly!" Ginny heaved a sigh, stood, and made for the exit. Of course, not without throwing an extra-long glare a Malfoy who didn't even seem to notice.

She ended up making her way towards the common room. She still had at least twenty-five minutes before classes started. Plus, she wasn't very keen on showing up to Snape's classroom nearly half an hour early. She had almost made it to the portrait before she heard Ginny calling her.

"Hey! I figured you'd come this way." Ginny jogged a few extra steps to fully catch up. "You know what, don't even bother with him. He hasn't even written to you, let alone spoken to you for months. Just forget him."

"I… don't know Ginny. I don't want to forget him. I don't like the idea of seeing one of my close friends, companions in his case I suppose, just walking out of my life. He's different."

"He's Draco Malfoy." Ginny said bluntly. Hermione didn't say anything. Ginny sighed and pulled her through the portrait hole silently. They took seats next to one another in front of the fire. Hermione stared into the embers.

"He got me something for Christmas, you know," Hermione said quietly, still staring at the fire.

"What?" Ginny said curiously, surprised.

"Yeah… it was thoughtful. I thought it represented something," she purposefully avoided telling her what it was. "No, it _did_ mean something. Then he went and did _that_." Hermione slumped into the back of the couch.

"I don't know," Ginny said, perplexed. "That changes things a bit."

Once again Hermione was grateful for Ginny's respect for her space. Sure, she had her slip-ups (like at breakfast), but she hadn't pressed for details just now, which really did mean a lot to Hermione.

"I had better get going to Potions now. Snape will have my head if I'm late," Hermione said. Ginny stood next to her.

"I'll walk with you. At least to the Transfiguration corridor," Ginny offered with a smile.

The next day she decided that she's had enough. Enough internal confusion and lack of clarity – it was time to put an end to their back-and-forth relationship. She was completely fed up. Her chance to approach him finally came when she raced down the corridor to catch up with him after Arithmancy and he just hadn't been fast enough.

"You are unbelievable." Hermione stepped in front of him so he couldn't try to walk away again. He just looked at her, face empty.

"First you and I talk all summer break, not having any inclination as to who I was… we were friends. We really were, Malfoy, whether you want to admit it or not. After the ball you were literally pining for me! Why send all of the letters asking for forgiveness you didn't – and still don't – deserve? By my reaction didn't you assume there was a legitimate reason for me pushing you away? How could you be so thick?!" She was getting angry just thinking about it all. She shook her head at him in disappointment.

"Once you figured out who I was, thanks to Cassandra, I gave you a chance. I've been trying to give you a chance and you've just been teasing me; giving me gifts then pushing me away. You _knew_ I was trying to speak to you all week… then you go and shove all my efforts back at me by showing your affections for another person in the center of the Great Hall, where you knew I would be." She finally looked away from him, no longer glaring at his unmoving form and his eyes that refused to meet hers.

He wasn't sure what to say. Part of him – a very small part – was screaming at him to speak up. Tell her, "I'm sorry! I'm confused! I can't deal with this alone; I don't know what to believe anymore – my upbringings or my own experiences. How can you expect me to just drop everything I've ever know for _you_?"

Unfortunately it was the _last_ question that decided to come out of his mouth. And it didn't sound very graceful with the sneer he habitually used.

"How can you expect me to drop everything I've ever known for _you_?"

She just stared at him. She was so surprised that he had completely switched gears from the Draco she had gotten to know over summer that had sent her that book to the Malfoy she'd grown up with since First Year. It took her a long time to reply, because her eyes were locked in a cold, blank stare that Draco wished he could escape from.

"Why would you even bother?" she said sadly, feeling her eyes beginning to water. "You must have known how much that book meant to me. You _do_ know." She looked at the ground, not allowing herself to be seen near-crying. Malfoy said nothing, at a loss for words; at a loss for his explanation.

"Now you don't even have the nerve to speak to me," she said with a sorry smile on her lips.

"I just… can't," he said helplessly, blank face cracking ever so slightly. For a second he looked torn and confused.

He wanted to tell her he liked her, but he couldn't. He wasn't taught how. He'd never done this before. He was Draco. A Malfoy. Someone who could hold in their emotions – not someone who could let them loose on command!

He watched her walk away.

The final quidditch match was approaching. Harry and Ron seemed to be practicing at least six days a week and the opposing Slytherins were training just as hard.

After spending another full day studying in the library while Harry and Ron practiced, Hermione made her way back up to the Gryffindor common room at nine o'clock before curfew. Not a minute after leaving she heard a familiar voice call from behind her. She stopped and waited for Ron and Harry to catch up to her, both looking extremely tried and extremely sweaty.

"Ron, Harry! What are you two doing out so late?"

"Quidditch just ended."

"You've been practicing for four hours?" Hermione's outraged face turned to Harry who was captain. "As a prefect it is my duty to remind you that each of the members on your team has schoolwork that is more important than a pastime spent flying on brooms and doing tricks!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"You want us to beat Slytherin just as badly as everyone else does."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "That is beside the point. School is much more important, despite my support for our team's upcoming win," she said confidently, and Ron grinned. "Well, how did practice go?"

"It was alright. Katie got knocked off her broom by a Bludger early on, but mistakes happen." Hermione glared ahead of her. Stupid sport.

"So what do our odds against Slytherin look like for Sunday?"

"Those thick-skulled Slytherins haven't got a chance," Ron said surely.

"Way to be optimistic, Ron, but they've got a good team this year so you never know what might happen," Harry said seriously. "We should really start focusing on our offensive techniques. I think we've pretty much mastered Slytherin's style of playing, so we can still use that to our advantage and make plays _against_ theirs." Hermione silently wondered why they couldn't be this focused on schoolwork.

It was Sunday. The big game was to start at noon and at breakfast there was a buzz of excitement from students of all of the houses. As usual, the Slytherins would be supporting themselves while the other two teams would be supporting Gryffindor. Was there any other reasonable way? Hermione suddenly felt enlightened on the ways of Slytherins, having dealt with one first-hand, and house rivalry never looked so sweet to her.

When breakfast ended she went to the library with Ginny, who wasn't playing quidditch this year since Harry was eligible to be on the team once again, and they spent a few hours working. Well, Hermione was working, Ginny was mainly whispering the entire time about quidditch and the pros and cons of each team.

When it was nearly midday, they packed up their things and headed down for the pitch. Ginny was still babbling about how exciting it all was and Hermione tried to match her enthusiasm, but her heart just wasn't in it. Books and reading, fine! Sports and flying, not-so-fine. Still, she did feel a bit better when they sat down next to Lavender and Parvati, because she knew that she knew more about the game than _they_ did.

"Mount your brooms." Madam Hooch's voice echoed through the pitch. She threw the Quaffle into the air and the game begun.

"And the game starts off with a quick steal of the Quaffle by Katie Bell, and she's racing down the pitch. Not a Slytherin feet from- OUCH! A Bludger to the side. Pucey in control of the Quffle, Johnson at his tail. An incomplete pass to Flint; figures, those Slytherins don't know anything about teamwork." Lee Jordan never did know when to keep his mouth shut. Still, Hermione smirked.

After an hour of gameplay the score was 220-180, Slytherin. There had yet to be any sight of the Snitch, and the anticipation was on the rise.

When Draco suddenly dove there was an uproar on the Slytherin stands and Harry was on him with breakneck speed. Hermione was leaning over the stands, Ginny at her side. _Go Harry, go, go, go!_

Suddenly Draco stopped his chasing of the Snitch that Hermione hadn't been able to see and turned on Harry. Harry stopped, too. They were facing each other, and by the looks of it they were having an argument. What in the world…! Harry would never give up on the Snitch for something as unimportant as house rivalry.

Hermione felt her cheeks burn when she saw Harry's arm point up to the Gryffindor stands in his tirade. Draco looked over – straight at her.

Harry was yelling about _her_?! Oh Merlin, someone help her! Her attention when back to the stands when she hear booing and shouts from the Slytherin and Gryffindor stands, people yelling at the quarreling Seekers to get back into the game.

Two minutes later they were back into the air, both hovering on their respective sides of the pitch.

"What the hell did he do that for, Ginny!" Hermione said in frustration.

"Well it was obvious after the fact that Malfoy hadn't really seen the Snitch. Harry would never have stopped if he had. Then Harry said something, Malfoy stopped, and you saw the rest," Ginny explained.

"Why would Harry talk to Malfoy. About _me_? Although he's never said it out loud to me, I know how much he hates the fact that it was Malfoy who was… you know." Hermione sighed in discontent. She had seen the looks Harry gave her when he caught her eyes wandering. And he elbowed her more than a few times in classes to redirect her attention to other places.

"Hermione, you have to look at it in his perspective. You're his best friend… his _sister_ and you're smitten over his enemy. He can put aside his differences in front of you, _for_ you, but they're never going to go away. He's trying his best to control himself." Ginny tried to explain gently. Hermione turned her head back to the game, absorbing the information.

So. Harry was angry… no, not angry: frustrated, with her. She had expected it before, yes, but after everything he had been acting so normal. Was Ron feeling the same way? She looked up at him just as he caught an incoming throw to one of the goal posts. She wished they could have been more honest with her. Not that she wasn't grateful for their acceptance of everything smoothly, but honesty really would have helped.

She tried not to ponder on it any further. For now, they were all getting along and they had forgiven her. She had done worse than they had by not telling them about her family, so it was only fair that she overlook something if they could too.

Still, she would be on him like Colin Creevey with his camera until she found out exactly what the boys had been arguing about.

The score had escalated to 240-210, Slytherin, when she finally turned her attention back to the game. The scores were tight, and both teams knew it was up to the Seekers to win the game.

Harry dove, just feet away from the Snitch when he spotted it. Malfoy, who was across the pitch, had no chance of beating Harry to it. Of course, he tried regardless.

Harry was reaching out for the Snitch, and although Malfoy was gaining ground it wasn't possible to get there in time. Harry's hands closed over the small ball and there was an uproar from three of the four sections of stands. Hermione cheered along with them and returned Ginny's hug that was sprung on her.

They had won. Slytherin had lost.

For some reason it wasn't as gratifying as she had thought it would be.

She was walking back to the castle with quite a few students around her, chatting madly with their friends about the match. She had congratulated Harry and Ron who were still celebrating and had carried onto the locker room. Ginny had stayed behind to chat with her past-teammates and that left Hermione on her own until everyone returned to the common room for the usual festivities after winning games.

Half way to the castle Hermione felt a hand on her upper arm and was spun around. There stood Draco Malfoy, broom in one hand, still wearing his uniform. Although she hadn't before, she now saw the cloak she had purchased for him wrapped around his shoulders. When she realized she had been staring at it she looked up at his face.

"Can I say something?"

"Now you want to talk?" Hermione said incredulously. He gave her an 'I'm-trying-here' look. She sighed and nodded.

There was a long pause.

"Potter is really annoying, how do you put up with him?" Hermione raise her eyebrows.

"He's only bad to people who deserve it."

"Look, I'm trying!" Malfoy snapped in annoyance and dropped his hand from her arm.

"What is so hard about it, Malfoy? It's called kindness and honesty. Apparently two things you were raised without!" she yelled at him, finally saying some of the things she had been holding back for weeks.

"I'm sorry, alright? I am sorry I can't just march up to someone I haven't liked for the past six years and beg for forgiveness for things that I am not sure I'm sorry for saying and doing. I'm sorry I can't tell you that I like you. I'm sorry that I can't tell you how much I want you and how I can't have you.

"How can you expect me to simply tell you anything I am feeling when what it is goes against everything I've learned since I was born? It isn't as simple as wanting and getting. I'm going to have to fight for you if there is going to be an 'us.' You should have understood that."

Hermione didn't know what to say. He was just as confused as she was. He was _more_ confused than she was, it seemed. Suddenly she felt very small and very naïve. How could she have expected him to drop everything for her? She knew his father and just about everyone in the Wizarding World knew about their social opinions. Although he had been in the wrong, she had been too.

"I didn't consider any of that," she said in a small voice. Malfoy seemed to calm down some when she said that. His chest was moving as he caught his breath from his outburst.

"Potter really is annoying, though." Malfoy finally spoke again. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"What were you two arguing about anyways?"

"You," he said simply.

"Yes, yes, I know _that_ much. What _about_ me?" she said impatiently. He smirked at her.

"How much you were pining for me." Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Th-that is not true!" she declared with a blush. Draco let out a chuckle but said nothing. "It really isn't!"

"Right, Granger."

"Hermione," she corrected almost as soon as he said Granger. Draco looked at her as if he was debating something.

"Hermione," he said with a nod. Hermione smiled.

**FIN**

**Final A/N:** Once again, thank you for reading. All feedback is appreciated even at the end of a story. As usual, I'm always open for suggestions - fics I should read, fics I should write, or even fics I should fix up (only my own, of course). If you are looking for any Draco/Hermione suggestions - just ask me. I'm also open to any book recs, too!

**Epilogue?** Maybe. If I get around to it. If I suddenly have the desire to pick up where I left off - in which case I may end up writing a completely AU, original sequel to it. Anywhos, keep an eye out if you're super interested in it.


	11. Epilogue: Closure

**A/N:** You readers had best be gracious with the reviews you send (Say Anything… reference! Who got it?). Yes, after your very long wait here is the epilogue! I hope it is acceptable for all you hounders ;). Thanks SOO much for the support!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I am not taking credit for it. The plot is also base loosely on Warner Bro's A Cinderella Story.

**Updated On:** August 14, 2009

**Chapter Eleven **(Epilogue: Closure)

"I'm surprised you came." Draco was sitting comfortably on the highest bleacher in the Ravenclaw stands of the Quidditch Pitch, watching the final rays of the sun fall behind the horizon. His broom was standing upright against the empty bench beside him.

"I'm not the one who's prone to avoiding things," Hermione said without malice to the blond. "What've you got the broom for?"

"I told you I'd get you on one, didn't I?" he said with a sly smirk.

Hermione smiled incredulously. "You've gone mad if you're trying to persuade me to get on that thing." He merely shrugged but the shadow of his smirk didn't leave his face. She took a seat beside him and cast a warming charm on the both of them so they wouldn't be chilled by the winter night's air. Draco's eyes flashed to the rather large gap between the two but didn't comment.

"How have you been?" Hermione asked casually, but genuinely curious since they hadn't written to each other for a couple of months. It was the night after the quidditch match and Draco had asked her to meet him in the stands to chat more. The previous day they had only made it to the castle doors before going their own ways which hadn't given them much time to discuss things.

"Fair," he said honestly. "I've missed writing with you." He was looking down at this hands which were in his lap. A shy Malfoy was not one known to her, so this was new.

"Me too," she admitted with a meaningful voice. "It's different on paper, don't you think? With a familiar face, name, and… _bloodlines _to consider,you never would have replied. But without it you gave me a chance, which I can honestly say I'm grateful for."

"It goes both ways though; you also gave me a chance. Petty as it is, this schoolyard discrimination runs well beyond these walls and works in reverse as well. While you think I would never knowingly speak to a muggleborn Gryffindor, what would your peers say if you spoke to a pureblood Slytherin on friendly terms? Family expectations may have an impact on my life but you've got your expectations to live up to, too."

Hermione sat in silence, contemplating his words. He was right, of course, but then again the results would have two very different outcomes if they did openly associate. They came from two different worlds and while one side may be accepting of outsiders, the other would never be.

Neither said more on the subject, having enough to consider now that the few words said would be plastered in their minds: if they wanted to be together, there would be trouble.

Silence followed the conversation which was more calming than hostile.

"You said your favorite color was navy blue," Hermione turned and gave him an inquisitive look.

"Can't a Slytherin's favorite color be something _other_ than green, silver, or black?" he said with a hint of amusement.

"Point taken; I'll keep that in mind."

There was another bout of silence before Hermione spoke up again. "What were you and Harry arguing about during the game when you pulled a… whatsit-feint… thing?" She blushed when he laughed at her lack of knowledge in the quidditch department.

"Wronski Feint," he said with a chuckle (Hermione scowled). "And I told you earlier – he mentioned how downcast you were due to my (he phrased this quite eloquently), 'lack of understanding human feelings to an extent that was equivalent to that of a baboon.'" Hermione blushed again at this and made a mental note to thank Harry for sticking up for her (despite how childish he may have gone about it).

"Well, it worked didn't it?" Hermione said in small voice.

"Yes and no. I was planning on approaching you soon regardless of what he said to me. I suppose you could say that he pushed me to do it earlier than I was planning."

"Why?" Hermione wondered how something Harry, who Draco was known to detest, had said could convince him to talk to her.

"I couldn't allow someone who _didn't_ like me to gather up the nerve to speak to me when I couldn't even do the same and talk to you, who I actually like," he said as if it was the most obvious reason in the world.

"You did it to soothe your pride," Hermione said bitterly, but accepted it as it was. His pride was one thing that Draco had even shown throughout his letters. It was a part of him that would never be changed, no matter who he may insult along the way.

"What did the two of them say when you told them you were meeting me here, anyways?" Draco asked smugly. She was ditching them to be with him… _ha!_

"They protested but finally gave up and reluctantly let me leave. Can you believe Ron gave me a curfew?" she pouted slightly and gave a small exasperated sigh.

"Well if you happen to get in late let them know you were in good hands…" He laughed at the thought of their faces and Hermione rolled her eyes.

They settled back into their seats comfortably and Hermione noticed that the gap between them had shrunk, which she didn't mind. The sky had turned dark by now and they were staring up at the dark sky together, both bewitched by the vast emptiness littered with stars above them.

"Did you see that?" Malfoy said suddenly, sounding somewhat excited. He pointed up to the sky as if Hermione could pinpoint the exact area to which he was pointing.

Lucky for him, his idiocy was lost in the moment because what he was pointing at she just happened to see.

"The shooting star, yes," she said with a smile, knowing where this was going.

"I suppose something has gained the closure it needed…"

"Want to hear a secret?" Hermione said, eyes dancing with amusement in the moonlight, a smile on her lips. Draco looked at her suspiciously but of course nodded.

"I made that story up," she laughed lightly and looked up at the sky, smiling.

"And why would you have fed me that story, then?" He sounded somewhat annoyed, which Hermione brushed off because quite frankly it wasn't that big of a deal.

"Everyone can use a bit of hope, right? Might as well spread the fable around," she said pleasantly.

"Not if it's a load of rubbish. Now, because I know it wasn't true, I sounded like a nutter when I made a reference to it."

"Hope is always necessary at some point, even if it is false; reassurance that it will be alright even when we're positive it won't be. If the star means there is closure, it means that disputes have been settled and now… all is well."

"But the truth would be the opposite, which I'd much rather have than a load of falsified happiness." Draco was adamant about this.

"If you look at it as a lie then you can't really understand the concept. Maybe in the future you'll understand that some things require hope or else… you'll break," she concluded.

Malfoy thought about the words but didn't fully grasp what she was trying to say. How could fluff be better than the truth in any circumstances? If you asked him it was the fluffed-up story that would break someone in the long-run.

They talked for a while longer, discussing what they'd been up to the past few months, what they had in store for the rest of the school year, and where they'd end up in the summer.

"I'm going to France with my parents for a vacation. Mother was persistent about it this past summer and when it never happened she went straight ahead and rented a lakeshore house for us in late June. After that… I'm not sure." He didn't explain further. To be honest, he didn't want to know for himself. He knew of his expectations from his father and he also figured that Hermione knew as well.

"Since I haven't got anywhere _else_ to go I'll end up back at my father's house with my stepmother. Then again, now that Ron and Ginny know about that they'll probably end up inviting me to stay with them halfway through vacation, which I'd accept. I'm planning on getting a part-time job somewhere, too."

"Didn't your father leave you any money?" Draco piped in unexpectedly.

"Well, yes, but it went to my stepmother. They couldn't find his exact will – which didn't surprise me to be honest, considering he married that hag – so everything went to his wife of the time since I'm not yet of age."

"Will you get any in September?"

"I should… I think, that would make sense, wouldn't it? I never heard that directly from my father's attorney but I'd assume that is how the legalities go…" She furrowed her brow in concentration. "I should contact him this summer and ask him. I'm positive my stepmother won't bother taking any steps towards giving me my rightful funds."

Draco watched as her faced screwed up in concentration and she unconsciously bit at her bottom lip, thinking. She was cute.

When he noticed that she was looking up at him with an inquisitive expression he figured he'd been caught in the act of staring at her. She surprised him with what she said next.

"What if someone were to walk up and see us right now?" Hermione turned to Draco and looked him straight in the eye. He didn't answer for a few moments.

"I would ask you for permission to kiss you, and before you could answer, I'd do it anyways." She looked surprised by his answer but when his face lit up with a smile she couldn't help but follow along.

"Why would you have to wait for a person to arrive to do that?" she said slyly. He smirked at her in approval and didn't waste another moment before scooting slightly closer to her on the bench, his faces getting nearer.

"Hermione Granger," he said in a near-whisper that drifted away with the winter's wind. "May I kiss you?" His eyes did not leave hers and the tantalizing smirk on his face was enough to make her return the sultry look he was giving her.

She was about to open her mouth to answer but before she could he had leaned down enough, allowing their lips to finally meet.

**Absolutely FIN.**

**Extremely lengthy A/N that you can ignore…**

Okay, okay. I know it isn't completely tied up but I kind of got myself in a pickle when I wrote this without thinking it through all the way. I wrote in a lot of hints that pointed to certain issues that I didn't close up and won't be able to unless I wrote a thorough, ten chapter sequel, which I don't plan on doing.

1) Madam Hazen was related to Mr. Granger's death – that was the entire point of all the foreshadowing that I never quite tied up. I do not plan on it either. I have no patience for war scenes and dark themes in this story. It was meant to be fluffy but due to my moronic wording I dug that hole that won't be filled.

2) Draco + Hermione = Secret Relationship after Epilogue? – Earlier in the story Draco's thoughts point to the fact that Hermione would never be up for a secret relationship, which hinted to you readers that there would be NO secrecy if they every ended up together. However, due to the fact that there is a war and we all know Draco Malfoy has expectations (I think I stated this five times in the last chapter alone lol), it would be completely unsafe if they DID have a well-known relationship. So where does this leave the story? I have no idea. If I were to write more, it would include something secretive with a few close friends knowing of their relationship. Alas, I don't plan on writing it because it would no longer be A Tale of Cinderella, but a "Spankin' new AU fanfic." That's that.

**Thanks EVERYONE who read and review and encouraged me to write the story. I wouldn't have written this epilogue without your encouragement (seriously, I wouldn't have).**


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